


A Thrill of Hope

by mlbee



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Evakteket Challenge, Even POV, Fluff, Jonas POV, M/M, Most of the others are just mentions, The Holiday (movie) AU, almost entirely fluff, alternating pov, idk how to tag anything i'm sorry it's just cute and full of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlbee/pseuds/mlbee
Summary: “Yes,” Even breathed before pulling Isak in for another kiss. He pulled away and murmured, “This is so weird. I’m kissing a total stranger.”“Really?” Isak asked. “I do it all the time.”---The Holiday AU that everyone needs this Christmas season.EDIT: There were some continuity issues because I don't understand ao3. Anyway, those should be fixed now!! Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Okay I got really excited about the Evakteket Christmas Challenge, and when I did the randomizer I got "Holiday Movie AU," "ice skating," and "hot chocolate," so it was just kind of perfect? Anyway this is based off [The Holiday](http://putlockers.fm/watch/oxQJ3BGn-the-holiday.html) which, if you haven't watched it, please do because it's amazing. Language barriers aren’t really a thing in this fic, so please just suspend reality with me for a bit, okay? 
> 
> It also became a MONSTER over the past few weeks, so I split it into chapters. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> (I also am still learning how ao3 works so if there are any mistakes I'm so sorry).
> 
> Be gentle with me if you hate it, but if you like it, feel free to give me holler about it. Happy Christmas y'all! <3

_There have been endlessly beautiful things written about love. For centuries people have written about the beauty of locking eyes with someone across the room, the way a hand feels when brushed under the table, lighting up every nerve in ways you never imagined. Shakespeare said “Journeys end in lover’s meeting.” Isn’t that great? People spend their time walking through life searching for meaning until one day it clicks. You’ve met your person, your soulmate, your heart’s match. It’s incredible really, for those who have the luck to experience something like that. But for most, we get tricked. Shakespeare also said “Love is blind.” And that is something I know to be true. We’re bombarded by the idea that we won’t be happy unless we’re in love. Every day it’s thrown in our faces by massive forms of commerce who use love as a marketing tool. They make us wish we had it so we buy their product rather than going out and searching on our own. Instead of focusing on love, the action of it, loving another person as they are, incomplete and flawed; we simply love the idea of another person. We want someone to care about us but we’re not willing to put in the work ourselves. Or at least, some of us are. But those of us who throw ourselves in with our entire hearts get taken for granted. We are cursed with a one-sided affair, trapped in love with someone who will never love us back, no matter how much we might care for them. Yes, I’m talking about myself. I have been in love with Eva Kviig Mohn for three unending years. She’s unbelievable. Beautiful, smart, funny, full of life. Even now, two years after our relationship ended and I can’t help but want to be with her. Just looking at her--god just the thought of her makes me weak._

“Jonas,” Isak snapped, tearing Jonas’s eyes away from his ex-girlfriend. Eva was standing across the room with her friends, laughing. “Were you listening to anything I said?”

“Hmm?” Jonas answered.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” Isak said, rolling his eyes. “What have I told you about Eva?”

Jonas sighed, “I know, I know. ‘Nothing’s happened yet, so it probably won’t happen.’ A guy can dream though right?”

“You’ve been dreaming for years. It’s time to give up,” Isak said. He put a hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “Listen, I love Eva. She’s one of my best friends. But Jesus man, give it a rest. You can’t keep dragging yourself along like this pathetic puppy.”

“Oh fuck you. It’s not that obvious.”

“Not to Eva. But everyone else?” Isak raised an eyebrow at his friend.  
“Fuck,” Jonas sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face.

“Jonas, when someone breaks up with you, you’ve got to move on. You go out, punch something, burn her stuff, and hook up with someone else. You don’t stay friends.”

“It’s kinda hard to do that when your best friend stays friends with her,” Jonas said with a pointed look at Isak.

He put his hands up in defense, “Hey, I offered to hang back, let the friendship diminish a little. But you said no. You thought it was better this way. Look, I’m just being honest with you, as your best friend. I think I owe you that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jonas said. “You’ve done plenty to make me feel better, thank you.” He swallowed the last bit of his beer and tapped it asking, “Next one?” Isak nodded, swallowing his beer down as Jonas made his way to the kitchen.

He snuck some of the snacks on the counter to nibble on as he rummaged in the fridge for a minute, pulling out two beers for him and Isak.

“Knock, knock,” a familiar and slightly slurred voice came from behind him. Jonas turned around and his eyes landed on Eva, leaning against the door frame. Her eyes, slightly glazed from the wine, sparkled with the reflection of the fairy lights hanging on the walls. Her burgundy dress fit her perfectly and Jonas longed to reach out and touch the bare skin that shone through the cutouts at her waist. Her hair was pulled back messily and she wore a headband with sparkly reindeer antlers and jingle bells. Jonas wanted to kiss her. He looked up and saw the mistletoe hanging above her head. He wondered if it was worth the risk, if he could blame it on a stupid tradition just to feel her soft lips against his one more time, as he’d thought about doing so many times before.

“Hey,” Jonas said, taking a sip of his beer to try and swallow the lump in his throat.

“Hi,” she said, refilling her glass from the bottle of wine on the counter next to him. “Where’ve you been all night? I feel like I’ve hardly seen you.”

Jonas laughed, “Oh you know, just talking to Isak and the guys.”

Eva nodded as she put the cork back on the wine bottle before turning to him and taking a sip. “I got you something for Christmas,” she said, cocking her head and making the bells on her headband ding.

“Yeah?” Jonas said, “That’s great because, uh, I got you something too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out Eva’s present.

“Oh!” She said, blushing. He held it out to her and she tentatively took it in her hands. “I don’t actually have yours with me. I didn’t want it to get fucked up at the party. You know how everyone gets. I know you’re gonna like it though,” she grinned cheekily.

“Oh,” Jonas chuckled. “Well that doesn’t really matter. Go on. Open it.”

She put her glass in Jonas’s hand and hastily unwrapped the small package, throwing the wrapping paper to the ground. Carefully she unwound the tissue paper and gasped as she revealed a small, delicately crocheted snowflake hanging from a thin sparkling thread.

“Oh Jonas,” she said. “It’s beautiful. Where did you find it?”

“Remember that Christmas market we went to ages ago? I found it at one of the stalls there. And, well, you always get so excited about the first snowfall. So I thought this would be nice.”

“It’s perfect,” she squealed flinging her arms around his neck. Her skin was warm from the alcohol and the stuffy apartment, but Jonas relished the feeling of it against his chest. “You’re such a good friend,” she said giving him one big squeeze before releasing him. She wrapped the snowflake back up and took her glass from Jonas. She planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek before retreating into the living room. Jonas stood there for a minute, allowing himself a small smile before joining his friends.

He found Isak, Mahdi, and Magnus in the bathroom sharing a joint and joined them. They swapped stories of Christmases past and laughed at how drunk and sloppy their friends were becoming as they got pleasantly buzzed.

“You look happy,” Isak said, nudging Jonas’s shoulder with his own as they walked out of the bathroom.

Jonas grinned, “Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit, but I’m feeling good.”

Isak scoffed, but it was true. Jonas felt warmer than he had in months. Not just from the alcohol and weed and the heat of too many bodies crowded into Eskild’s small apartment. But from everything throughout the night. Laughing with his friends over their bad dancing, watching Eskild get increasingly dressed up in decorations from around the apartment, sneaking a joint in the bathroom like they were still in high school, and Eva. Always Eva.

Jonas had been terrified to give her the ornament. It was the first Christmas present he’d gotten her since they broke up. He wanted to get her one last year, but Isak had talked him out of it, telling him the breakup was too fresh. It wasn’t, Jonas insisted. But he listened to his best friend anyway with the hope that it would make a difference.

He searched forever to find the perfect gift for her. He didn’t want it to be cheesy or too serious, so jewelry was out of the question. But he wanted it to be special, so he couldn’t just settle on a scarf, no matter how much the boys insisted.

And when he saw the snowflake ornaments he was reminded their first date. She’d looked so beautiful in the snow, cosied up in a beanie and scarf, tongue stretched out far to taste the coolness of the snowflakes that fell sticking to their clothes and eyelashes. They shared a hot chocolate after that, wandering around the streets of Oslo, hand in mittened hand.

It was perfect.

Jonas could tell from that moment that he was going to fall hard and fast for Eva. And he did. He hasn’t stopped loving her even though she stopped falling for him a long time ago. She’s seen a few people since they broke up, but nothing long lasting. Nothing that made Jonas believe there wasn’t a chance for them to work out again. He still held that hope.

Isak told him all the time how stupid he was for it, how he should stop hoping and start working toward something else. But Jonas couldn’t help it. He felt in his bones that Eva was meant to be in his life. He loved her more than nearly anyone, even if she didn’t love him back the same way. Above all else they were friends. And Jonas would keep her as a friend as long as he could, even if that meant breaking his heart every time he saw her.

“Oh,” Isak said softly, pulling Jonas to a stop next to him.

“What?” Jonas asked. “What’s going on?”

Isak jerked his head toward the door between the living room and the kitchen, the same door Eva stood under when Jonas gave her the present, the door which now held Eva wrapped in an intimate kiss with Noora.

“It’s about time they made it public,” Linn said behind them.

“Huh?” Isak asked.

“They’ve basically been dating for the last four months,” she continued. “Figured it was bound to happen one of these days. I’m surprised you two didn’t know that.” She walked off to join Chris and Vilde on the couch.

Jonas looked at Isak, who stared back at him with confusion and sympathy, before they both turned to look at the kissing girls. Their kiss was soft, it was warm, and it was devastating.

 _Four months?_ Jonas thought. How did he not know about this? How did Isak not know about this? It was hard for him to catch his breath. He vaguely heard the sound of glass breaking as he stepped on a cheap bulb. Before he knew it he found his way outside, not wearing a coat. His footsteps left marks in the snow and he ached with the cold, but the sharpness of the air in his lungs reminded him that he was here, he was alive, despite the burning in his heart.

He heard a door slam and Isak was beside him, wrapping a coat around his shoulders. Isak kept Jonas in his embrace as he pushed him forward, forcing him to walk.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you home.”

* * *

“How do I look?” Sonja asked turning away from the vanity and looking at Even, who was sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his shoes.

“Fine,” he said, barely glancing at her. He was restless, he needed to get to the studio, do something productive, something creative.

“Even, you didn’t even look,” Sonja said sternly. “You know how important this meeting is. I need to make a good impression.”

“You look great Sohn,” Even said, meeting her eyes. “You always do.”

“You’re lying.” She sighed and picked up her purse rifling through it to find her cell phone. She checked the time and her messages, muttering a quiet “Fuck.”

“What?” Even asked the obligatory question.

“Nothing, Jared is just freaking out about the meeting and asked me to come in as soon as possible instead of thirty minutes from now so I’ve got to run. You’ll be okay today?”

Even rolled his eyes, “Yeah, Sonja, I’m fine. I’ve told you that a thousand times.”

“Sorry,” she said moving over to him, settling herself between his legs. “You know I worry.”

“Yeah, I know,” Even said, exasperated. “I just wish you’d listen to me.”

“I don’t think that’s very fair,” she said pulling back and putting her hands on her hips. Even simply raised his eyebrows in response. She sighed again. “Fine,” she said moving and picking up her purse. “Just remember to take your meds today.”

Even looked at the ceiling and took a deep, quiet breath.

“Even,” Sonja said turning around when he said nothing.

“I heard you,” He said sharply.

She stared at him with a look that was half annoyance, half hurt, and it made Even feel half bad. Only half though. He looked up at her with what he hoped seemed like an apologetic eyes. It must have worked because Sonja made her way back to him. She reached up to run a hand through his hair, but he dodged it. She sighed again--they were getting so frequent now that Even could almost tell what they would sound like before they even happened.

“Wish me luck?” She said, slightly hopeful.

“Luck,” Even said, standing up and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Before she had time to say anything else, he went into the bathroom.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” she shouted through the door. In lieu of a response, Even turned on the shower and heard another sigh from Sonja as she left.

He let the water run without even thinking about getting in. Instead, opened the medicine cabinet and popped two pills into his mouth, washing them down with water straight from the tap. He lifted up the lid off the back of the toilet and removed the joint he had taped there. He cracked a window and sat on the sill, lighting up, letting the smoke sting his lungs.

He didn’t smoke often. Sonja cracked down on that not long after he was diagnosed. But now, as they were drifting apart, he started doing it more. Not enough to cause a problem with his meds--his wasn’t that reckless. Sure he’d do some pretty dumb things, but he had finally gotten to a (mostly) stable point in his life and career, and he wasn’t about to fuck up an opportunity because of his own stupidity. Not here. Not in L.A.

No, now he just did it to take the edge off. Living with Sonja was getting difficult. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He didn’t even want to be with her anymore. He knew she felt the same. They barely touched anymore. No gentle caresses that once made their friends sick with envy. Their kisses were cold, and the last time they had sex it felt like they were each using it as an escape, using each other’s bodies instead of loving each other the way they once did. Even felt disgusting afterwards, but he didn’t know how to stop.

They both knew they had to end it. But they’d been together so long he wasn’t sure they even knew how to be apart.

He sat there until he felt better, watching the smoke curl out the window with the steam from the shower. Once, he would have worried about running the water, especially hot, costing more money than he had. Now though, he couldn’t care less. The heat felt good on the cool December day.

When he nearly used up all the hot water, he turned the shower off. Normally he would spray the room with air freshener, douse his clothes in cologne, and brush his teeth so as to not let Sonja know what he was up to. Frankly though, he just couldn’t be bothered. Maybe if she smelled weed on his clothes and in their bathroom she’d get so fed up she would be the one to leave.

Maybe.

Even made his way to the in-home cutting studio he had in his house. It was Sunday, so the rest of his staff had the day off, which was good for Even. He wasn’t sure he could deal with people today. Instead, he threw himself into his work.

He was a video editor, making movie trailers for everything from big-budget blockbusters to small independent films. He was one of the best, if he did say so himself. He loved the craft of it, the dedication it required. He was so precise with everything. Which scene cut to which, what part of the score played over top, the dialogue used. Even dissected every single moment of the trailers to make sure they were perfect, that the audiences had nearly a full story, but always left wanting a little more.

He loved the minutiae of it all, knowing what a difference once second could make. The focus it required gave him a semblance of control he couldn’t get anywhere else.

When he was manic, his mind went in a hundred different places and sometimes he could create unending loops of clips that were at once chaotic and beautiful, but most of the time it was just a mess that he never really understood when he came down. When he was depressed, editing was the only thing he even came close to wanting to do. But that happened rarely and it would sometimes take him weeks to get back in the studio.

The more stable he got in both his health and career, the more time he spent there.

But when things started getting bad with Sonja, he retreated there almost entirely. When she got overbearing, he retreated to remember that he was the one in control of his life. Sometimes he would spend days on end working, when he wanted to get away. He knew it was counterproductive really, that Sonja would get concerned with him working too much and worry that he was having an episode, and then he would want to retreat even further. But still, it calmed him in a way that made it worth risking Sonja’s wrath.

He focused his mind away from Sonja and back to the trailer he was working on. It was an action film, not something he’d usually watch or want to work on. But he was friends with the director, so he offered to cut him a deal for Even’s good work.

The film was about a conventionally attractive young woman who suddenly came into a lot of money from her late father, but was now being hunted because of it. Naturally she gets help from an equally conventionally attractive male lead who is skilled in combat and flirting. It hits all the cliché’s of an action movie, and frankly the only thing Even liked about it was that it actually passed the Bechdel test. But he worked hard on it today. Partly to escape, partly so he could finish and stop working on it, and partly because the deadline was next Wednesday.

“You’ve been smoking?”

Even jumped when he heard Sonja’s shrill question. He turned around slowly, bracing himself for her anger, and she stood there in the doorway holding half a joint. Did he not hide that? Fuck, he was getting more desperate to end this relationship than he thought.

“Jesus christ,” he said rubbing a hand across his face. “When did you get home?”

“Ten minutes ago,” She said shortly. “Why were you smoking?”

Even sighed, “Because it takes the edge off and reminds me that not everything is complete shit.”

“Great. That’s really nice, Ev,” Sonja said. “Don’t you know what this does to you? What it does to your meds?”

“Of course I do,” Even said. “But I’m not an idiot. Have you seen any change in my behavior over the last three years?”

“Three years?!” She said, voice raising. “You’ve been doing this for _three years?_ ”

“Fuck Sonja, keep your voice down.”

“What for? Afraid the gardener will hear? Or the neighbors?”

“No, I don’t give a fuck about that. You’re just giving me a headache.”

“Oh, I’m the one giving you a headache. Really?” she said waving the joint in front of his face, as if that was the culprit.

“Yes, Sonja,” Even said raising his voice. “You usually are.”

“Nice,” she said again. “Really nice, Even.”

A pregnant silence settled around them and Sonja looked at him expectantly.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re really not going to say anything?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I’d like you to apologize, for one.”

“For what?” Even asked, standing up. “Getting high every once and while so I can deal with your overbearing ass?”

“Overbearing--” Sonja started. She paced back and forth, waving her finger at him, “Don’t start this again. You and I both know why I get so worried about you. Because you do stupid shit like this,” she said throwing the joint at him.

“Stupid shit that hasn’t actually made a difference in my behavior since I started doing it? Stupid shit that I limit myself to so that I can calm the fuck down without also going manic?” Even asked. His heart was hammering against his chest with anger and adrenaline from the much needed fight. “I’m not a child Sonja! I can look after myself. I remember to take my medication, I limit the amount of weed I smoke, the amount of alcohol I drink. You don’t have to watch over me all the time.”

“I have to watch over you because you never seem to know when you’re slipping,” she retorted.

“Do you think I’m slipping now?” Even asked. Sonja looked down at the rug between them. “Do you?” he asked louder.

“A bit, okay?”

“Really?” he asked. She nodded, tears in her eyes, and Even felt the fight go out of him. He sat back down, heavy into his chair and put his head in his hands.

“You spend so much time in the studio nowadays, you avoid my touch, you hardly look me in the eye anymore--”

“And you think that means I’m slipping?”

“That, or...” she trailed off.

Even swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Or?” He asked, looking up at her quickly. He face was knitted together in a way that would have broken his heart if any of it still belonged to her.

She sighed and sat down in the chair across from him, rolling close enough that their knees were touching.

“It’s not working anymore is it?” she asked. Even shook his head, afraid of his own voice. “It hasn’t been working for a while has it?”

He shook his head again. “We’ve both been unhappy for so long,” Even admitted. “I honestly can’t remember what it felt like when it did work.”

Sonja laughed sardonically, leaning back into her chair, “Neither can I, to be honest.”

“Really?” Even asked. She shook her head and laughed again. He laughed through his nose and let a small smile play at the corner of his lips. Sonja really was beautiful when she laughed. And in this moment of clarity, of revelation, she looked especially so.

“What are we doing, Ev?” she asked, the anger on her face fading, replaced by friendliness.

“Nothing good,” he laughed, the weight of their relationship already easing after their small confessions.

Sonja echoed his laugh, “No, you’re right. Nothing good. We’ve got to end it.”

Even nodded. They were silent for a few minutes, letting the moment settle. That was it then. Mutually understanding that it wasn’t working, but equally unable to say goodbye. Months of pent up feelings, resentment festering like an old wound, gone in the blink of an eye.

“When did you realize?” He asked.

“About a year ago,” she answered.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure if I could. I felt guilty wanting to leave you because--”

“Because I’m ill?” he finished for her.

“No, Even,” she said. “Well, yes. There was that. But you’re the only person I ever really loved. And I felt guilty for falling out of that.”

“Oh.” Even said.

“What about you?”

“I was afraid of losing the security of you,” he said. “But I think I fell out the same time you did.”

She nodded, understanding. “One day we might be able to be friends again. I think we were always better at that than anything else.”

Even nodded. She squeezed his hands briefly and stood up. “Well,” she said, “I guess I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. I’ll figure something out tomorrow.”

She kissed his forehead, and for the first time in months it felt nice, comfortable, platonic instead of passive.

 _Fuck_ , he thought. _How could it have been that easy?_

He felt relieved that it was less painful than he was expecting, that they both felt the same way. But angry that he was too cowardly to do it sooner, angry that Sonja wasn’t willing to do it either. Above all else though, he felt calm. The turmoil of the last year, battling with himself and with Sonja, was taking a toll on his health, he’ll admit. But now, for once, the thoughts that ran rampant through his head were still. And he felt, more than ever, that something good was going to happen.

* * *

“Four months though, Isak?” Jonas said three days after the party, slamming his beer down on the kitchen table. “How did we not know for four months?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” Isak said. “I mean, it makes sense for you. Your head’s been so far up her ass that it’s impossible for you to see anything. But me? How did I not know? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“To be fair, Issy, you’re not the best secret keeper,” Jonas pointed out.

“I kept it a secret that I was gay for years. I think that warrants me some secret-keeping credit,” Isak retorted.

“Eh,” Jonas said and Isak threw a chip at him. He groaned and put his head in his arms. “Seriously though, why didn’t she say anything?”

Isak shrugged. “Maybe they just wanted to take things slow?” he suggested. “Ever since Noora broke up with William she’s been taking things slower than she speaks.”

“That was like five years ago, wasn’t it?”

“It’s Noora we’re talking about. She doesn’t forget easily.”

“She’s a lesbian though, don’t you think she’d stop being hung up on it?”

“I’m not going to pretend I understand how the lesbian mind works Jonas, especially Noora’s,” Isak insisted.

“Do you think they waited because of me?” Jonas asked.

“Why the hell would they do that?” Isak asked.

“Maybe she still has feelings for me and didn’t want to hurt me?” Jonas said hopefully.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Isak said. “Why are we still talking about this anyway?”

“Because now I have actual proof that Eva isn’t in love with me and as my best friend you’re supposed to support me as I wallow,” Jonas whined.

“Dude. I’ve been listening to you wallow for years. It’s time to move on.”

“I can’t move on. She’s everywhere I go.”

“That’s because you intentionally go places that you know she is.”

“We’re friends! I can’t hang out with my friend?”

“Not when you’re in love with them and it’s unrequited,” Isak said. Jonas huffed. “Seriously,” he said. “You’ve got to do something. Go somewhere if you need to. Hook up with someone just to get your mind off Eva. Just...please try to move on? I hate seeing you like this.”

Jonas sighed. He didn’t like admitting it, but Isak was right. This whole thing with Eva was starting to wear on him. He loved her, desperately. But he was tired of just watching her from afar. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

Jonas rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I promise Isak. Can we let it go now?”

“Yeah. Now come on,” he said, draining his beer and standing up. “Mahdi’s at the bar. Let’s go get really drunk and see if Magnus will buy us food.”

Jonas laughed and stood, “Finally, you’re useful.”

“Shut up,” Isak said pushing him as they put on their coats and headed out into the snowy night.

\---

Hours later, Jonas stumbled home from the bar, the boys’ words ringing in his head.

“You just need to escape for a little while,” Magnus had said.

“Yeah, go somewhere you don’t know anyone,” Mahdi echoed. “Be whoever you want to be and forget about the rest of us here.”

Isak just nodded along, glad the other guys were agreeing with him while still being sensitive to Jonas’s bruised ego.

He got himself a glass of water and sat down hard at his kitchen table. Jonas pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his social media, trying to relax and clear his mind before crawling into his bed. But it didn’t work.

 _Fuck_ , he thought to himself, _maybe they were right._

And just for the hell of it, because he was drunk and confused, he started googling.

It began with very obvious and specific google searches like “how to get over your ex-girlfriend” and “what to do when your ex-girlfriend kisses her new girlfriend under the mistletoe and you’re still in love with her?” But it quickly moved on to questions like “What city is halfway around the world from Oslo, Norway?” and “Good places to travel alone” and “Best places to go for Christmas.”

Eventually he stumbled upon a home exchange website--somewhere you meet someone online and exchange houses with them for a limited amount of time. It honestly sounded kind of creepy to Jonas, but he thought it might make for a funny story later in life. So he signed up anyway. He confirmed the account, added a few pictures of his house and was totally finished setting up his profile by the time he realized what he had been doing.

He groaned to himself, muttered, “Jonas, you’re such an idiot. Pull yourself together,” before going off to sleep for as long as humanly possible.

* * *

Memories collided behind Even’s eyelids. A soft blonde girl looking shyly at him over a bagel and coffee. Kisses on ice as the snow fell around them. Shower sex. Lying on the beach, passing only a few words over the course of the day. Cheering each other on. Happy scenes blended into a swirl of chaos until Even was feeling on top of the world, thinking about asking her to marry him. Cut to black. A dark screen. He was crashing to the depths of despair, wondering why she stayed but being thankful she never left. He watched them grow, learn to love each other differently. Wariness grew between them. They were walking through a minefield, one wrong step would be catastrophe. Secrets were kept, intimacy was pulled back. Lovers turned to companions turned to enemies until there was nothing but the shallow emptiness around him.

Even woke up in a panic and unconsciously reached to his right hand side. Empty.

He knew this. Even remembered the events of the previous night. The raised voices and then the quiet disintegration of their six-year relationship.

It was fine. It was necessary. The relationship had run its course and the romance they felt disappeared a long time ago. He knew this.

But it still stung.

Sonja had been with him through everything. She was one of the first people he met when he moved to LA. Just recently accepted to university, studying Advanced Film Studies, he moved and began working as a Page for a low-budget tv show. She worked in the coffeeshop on his block and was trying to get a job with the orchestra. Naturally he went there as often as he could and spent what little money he had trying to flirt with her over the counter. It worked, and they fell in love. And when Even got a job an entry level video editing job, she baked him a cake. When she got into the orchestra he spent too much money on a fancy dinner and a drive into the country to see the stars. They moved in together and continued persevering in their careers and it was really great for a while.

But then Even was diagnosed and there was a tangible shift in their relationship. No longer were they carefree. Even stopped spontaneously taking her out on dates because every time he did, she’d wonder if he was manic. She gave up opportunities to travel with the orchestra because she needed to take care of him. Even felt guilty, of course. If it wasn’t for his mental illness she wouldn’t have stayed. She said she didn’t, but he knew she resented him. He resented himself too.

He tried to tell himself it wasn’t his fault. He knew, somewhere that it wasn’t. She martyred herself for a man who never asked her to and it broke her, broke them. But just because Even told himself it wasn’t because of him or his illness, doesn’t mean he believed it.

Even sighed and pulled the covers off himself, forcing himself out of bed. Throwing on a t-shirt jeans, he padded down to the kitchen. He wondered if Sonja was still in the house, until he saw a note taped to the coffeemaker.  
“Thought it’d be better to leave before you woke up. I’ll come back next week for my stuff. All my love. -S.”

He smiled briefly before crumpling the note and throwing it in the trash. He didn’t hate her. Their break-up hurt, but only because he lost one of his only constants in his life. But maybe she was right. Maybe they could be friends again someday.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

Even looked up from his coffee and into the face of his best friend, Mikael.

“Good morning to you too,” he said bitterly. Mikael grinned and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.

“So,” he said. “It finally happened, huh?” Even nodded.

“Are you okay?” Mikael asked, and he nodded again. “Great! Because we’ve got a trailer to finish.” Mikael clapped him on the back and pushed him toward the studio.

Mikael was Even’s best friend. They had met through Sonja, and had quickly become inseparable. They had the same excitable energy and always encouraged each other’s shenanigans when they were in college. Their interests were different--Even made movies and Mikael made music--but they always worked well together and helped each other out where they could. He brought Mikael on as a second (actually fourth) opinion on the trailer he was working on because, as per Mikael’s terrible taste, he loved action movies.

So here he was, pushing Even toward his job and not letting him linger on the break-up. Because Mikael, too, was with him when he was diagnosed. And in some wonderful twist of fate, Mikael hasn’t gotten worn down by him. He keeps him distracted, but grounded, reminding Even of his worth while keeping his brain occupied outside of its downward spirals.

“Alright boys, the boss is back,” Mikael said as they stepped into the studio. “Show him what we’ve got.”

“We?” Mutta asked.

“Mikael, you don’t even work here. You’ve hardly done anything besides see how many gummy worms you can catch in your mouth,” Adam said.

“Whatever! I gave my opinion on some very critical shots,” Mikael insisted. “Regardless, show him what _you’ve_ done.”

Adam rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Mutta said, “Okay so we saw what you did last night and we loved it. But we think there were a few shots that could have a stronger impact.” He pressed play on the trailer and they watched the scenes unfold.

It started out slow, with a scene of funeral goers, but quickly got dramatic. Quick shots of cars, the leading lady running, a slow dramatic close up of a gun, leading lady being shoved into a car, an explosion, a flipped car, a vague idea of hope, gunfire. Cut to black.

His three friends turned to Even expectantly.

“Wow,” he said. “Wow, that looks really good. Finally. So good I might even see it.”

“Yeah?” Mikael asked.

“Oh yeah. It was great. I loved all the quick shots. How you weren’t really sure what exactly was happening, but you knew enough to want more. And the ending was really really striking.”

“Even,” Adam said. “You did the ending.”

“Yeah, I know, and I did a really good job on it,” He said earnestly. He laughed full and long when he saw his friends unamused faces. “I’m kidding. Kind of. I do really like the ending. But I really love what you added too. I love the juxtaposition of her holding the gun and then her being shoved into the car. Like you’re not entirely sure what happens to get her from Point A to Point B. It looks really good.”

“And the font on it? You thought that was okay. It wasn’t too dramatic?” Mutta asked.

“No, I thought it was perfect. I never would have thought to put a serif font on this, but I think it works really well. Gives it a sophistication that you wouldn’t get otherwise.”

Mutta breathed a sigh of relief and Adam patted him on the back.

“Great,” Even said clapping his hands together. “So that’s it then. We’re finished. Elias will be so happy we got it done a week before deadline. He’s been getting antsy.”

“When isn’t that guy antsy?” Adam asked.

“True,” Mutta said.

Even sat down and started spinning his chair side to side. He drummed his fingers on his legs, thinking, while the boys kept talking.

“What if we took off the next two weeks?” He asked, voicing the thought before it was even fully formed in his mind.

They all turned to him, dumbfounded.

“What?” Mikael asked after moment of silence.

“Are you serious?” Adam asked.

“You always say Christmas is the busiest time for us. And now,” Mutta asked, “you want to take it off?”

“Why not?” Even asked. “We could all use a vacation right?”

“Uh…I guess?” Adam said.

“Are you okay, Ev?” Mikael asked.

“Yeah what’s gotten into you?” Mutta asked.

Even looked between his friends, each with concern written on their faces. “I just feel so trapped in here lately. I feel like I need to get out of here, get out of LA for a while. I’m not manic, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know myself. I’m just…” he trailed off searching for the best word. Empty? Anxious? Unfulfilled? “Restless, or something. Don’t you ever get that way?”

“Well, yeah,” Mikael said. “But this is really sudden. Shouldn’t you take a couple days to think about it?”

He looked at Mikael and his best friend’s eyes were filled with worry. He took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” He said. “Yeah you’re right. I should think about it. Uh…take the rest of the day off guys. I’ll let you know what I decide later.”

“Okay boss,” Mutta said, standing up and saluting before grabbing his jacket.

“Whatever you say.” Adam patted him on the shoulder on his way out.

Mikael looked at Even once they were gone. “Are you sure you’re okay? I understand that you’re feeling trapped and now that you and Sonja are done you have a chance to breathe again. But...you just broke up. Like, fourteen hours ago. That’s a big change. I don’t,” Mikael swallowed hard, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Even’s heart dropped from the slightly euphoric state it had been in. Mikael was right. This was a huge change in Even’s life. He should be careful.

“I know, Mik,” he said. “But I know how to keep myself in check. I’ll let you know if I feel myself slipping. I always do don’t I?” Mikael nodded. “I promise I’ll think about it before I do anything rash okay?” Even continued.

“Alright,” he said. “You know I’ll hunt you down if you do anything stupid.”

Even laughed, eyes crinkling at his best friend’s honesty. “I know you will.”

\---

He sat at his desk late that night, legs bouncing, clicking his pen, thinking. Was he slipping? Did he just not realize it? Was Sonja right and the joint had fucked something up?

No. It didn’t feel like it usually did. He was restless, sure. But it was calmer than mania. He wasn’t fixating on grandiose, out of this world ideas. He was focusing on a real, tangible goal: to get away for a while, reevaluate who he was and what he wanted to do, embrace being independent.

That wasn’t crazy, right? People did stuff like this all the time. Just because he was bipolar didn’t mean he should stop being spontaneous.

He pulled the keyboard close to him and typed. He scrolled through Google for a while, looking up vacation places, flight prices, and times.

Where would he go? It was Christmas after all, and Even had never actually experienced a white Christmas before. He looked up places in northern USA and Canada, but nothing felt right.

He looked up places in Germany, Hungary, Russia. It was all wrong. Then it hit him.

Norway.

How incredible would that be? He could burrow away in a cabin somewhere in Norway, bury himself in the snow, maybe even see an actual reindeer.

It was perfect.

He landed on a home exchange website and scrolled for a while. Bergen, Tromsø, Stavanger. There was something wrong with each of them. The house was too plain, it was too far north, whatever the reason, Even found them lacking.

He decided to look at Oslo, after eliminating it the first time for being the largest city in Norway. But he looked anyway. The first house he clicked on was newly listed--only the day before--on the outskirts of town. A log cabin style home that was small, but quaint. It looked rustic, cosy. A perfect place to spend Christmas.

Even debated with himself for thirty more seconds before tapping a message out to the owner. Before he could think another second longer, he hit send. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes,” Even breathed before pulling Isak in for another kiss. He pulled away and murmured, “This is so weird. I’m kissing a total stranger.” 
> 
> “Really?” Isak asked. “I do it all the time.”

Jonas woke up to incessant buzzing and the worst hangover he’s had in years.

He groaned and rolled over grabbing his phone and silently cursing Isak, who was probably texting him. Except judging by how hungover Jonas was, as well as the dim light coming through the windows, Isak most likely was still asleep.

So who the fuck was texting him at 7 am??

He looked at his phone and saw three messages from that stupid home exchange app he’d drunkenly signed up for. He instantly regretted allowing push notifications and hoped desperately that they were just confirmation emails that he could forget about once he deleted it.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and opened the app.

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “I’m interested in renting your house. Is it still available?”  
**EvenBechNæsheim:** “Are you there??”  
**EvenBechNæsheim:** “I’m wondering if your house is available this Christmas. Because if it is, you could be a real life saver.”

How did that happen? He was asleep for what, six hours at the most, and now he was here with messages from a stranger asking to swap homes? As he was about to close the app, another message popped up.

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “I know it’s ridiculous to be asking, but if you’re at all interested please contact me.”

What the fuck? Was this some prank by the guys? Did they somehow know that he impulsively signed up for this website and were now taking the piss out of him?

Or was this fate? Jonas wasn’t really one to believe in signs from the universe. But something about this was too serendipitous to go unnoticed.

**JonasVasquez:** “I could potentially be interested. I think the house is only available for home exchange though.”  
**JonasVasquez:** “(I just signed up last night so I’m still not sure how it all works).”

He pressed his phone against his chest. What was he doing?

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “So what we trade houses for a certain period of time? That doesn’t sound too hard.”

**JonasVasquez:** “Houses, cars...everything, I guess. I know some people who have done it before.”  
**JonasVasquez:** “Where are you?”

_Please say somewhere far away,_ Jonas thought.

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “L.A.”

Jonas laughed out loud. This had to be a joke.

**JonasVasquez:** “I’ve never been there...but I hear it’s nice.”

Frankly it seemed like a cesspool of capitalist victims trying to force their way to the top. But it did look pretty beautiful in the movies.

**JonasVasquez:** “I’m Jonas by the way. Pretty normal, mid-twenties, Norwegian.”

_Desperately pining after my ex-girlfriend who is now dating a woman and hoping to avoid my feelings_ , he thought.

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “I’m Even. The same.”

**JonasVasquez:** “You’re Norwegian??”

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “My parents are, at least.”

**JonasVasquez:** “Haha close enough.”

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “I’ve gotta say, your place looks rustic. Just what I need.”

**JonasVasquez:** “Really? Thanks. What’s your place like?”

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “Mine’s nice. … A little bigger than yours, though.”

**JonasVasquez:** “Not hard to be.”

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “Can I ask you something?”

**JonasVasquez:** “Go for it.”

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “Are there any women in your town?”

Jonas thought for a minute about Eva, how beautiful she looked the night of the party. How heartbreaking it was to see her kiss Noora.

**JonasVasquez:** “Honestly? Zero.”

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “When can I come??”

_Holy fuck_ , Jonas thought, _he’s actually serious_. He got out of bed and started pacing around his room. Was he doing this? Was this completely insane?

It wasn’t realistic to go on vacation right now. Not so close to the holidays. Not when he was doing fine here. He had good friends, a good job. He liked his life.

But at the same time he couldn’t take it. It was hard enough seeing Eva so often when she was single and not in love with him. But now that she was with Noora, and even less in love with him? It was unbearable. If this was a sign from the universe, then fuck it.

He tapped out a message and sent it before he could think twice.

**JonasVasquez:** “Wednesday too soon??”

He waited in agony for his stupidity to be rejected.

**EvenBechNæsheim:** “Wednesday is perfect.”

“Oh my god,” Jonas said out loud. He let out a disbelieving laugh and sat back down on the bed.

**JonasVasquez:** “Okay. Then we are on. Two weeks starting Wednesday.”

What the fuck.

\---

Two days later, Jonas found himself sitting on a plane to Los Angeles. He anxiously bounced his leg and looked around at the other passengers, all of whom looked eager to start their journeys. A small bag plopped down next to him and he looked up to see a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

“Hi,” she said to him with a warm smile.

“Hi,” he said, smiling back and relaxing a bit. This holiday might do him good after all.

“Honey,” a man said, coming behind the girl and putting a hand on her back. He pointed to the row behind Jonas. “We’re there.”

She moved her bag to the right row and the man gave Jonas an artificially sympathetic smile. Before Jonas even had time to turn in his seat, a very fat old man sat down next to him and murmured a gruff, “Hi” before stretching out his legs and essentially blocking Jonas in. Great.

He sighed and looked at his phone one more time before shutting it off.

**Eva Mohn:** “You’re going to LA?? What am I ever going to do without for two weeks? Have fun in the sun for me, love bug :)

He swallowed hard and began typing out a response. “Eva, you and I both know I need to fall out of love with you…” He silently cursed himself and erased the message before shutting off his phone for the duration of the flight.

Please let this be worth it.

* * *

“Sir,” a voice sounded sternly above him and Even woke with a jolt. “We’re here,” said the driver of the car. The panic subsided in his chest when he remembered where he was. He was in Norway. He spontaneously went on vacation and took a 17 hour plane ride to get here, and was now entirely alone in a country where he only knew a smattering of the language thanks to his parents.

But this would be good. He needed the time to get away from it all. To stop thinking so much. To relax. This was going to be a good place to relax. Except….

Even rolled down the window of the car to get a clearer view.

“A cemetery?” he asked the driver. “This can’t be it.”

“It’s not,” the man said. “The thing is though, the cabin is at the end of this lane. And I’ll never be able to turn the car around once I get there. Think you can make it on your own from here?”

“Uh…no?” He said.

But before he knew it, he was outside with his luggage and the car was driving away in the direction it had come.

_What the fuck?_ Even thought. _I’m just supposed to find this place?_

He was supposed to be relaxing. Not beginning his trip by lugging his 50 pound suitcase on a hike through the outskirts of Oslo. But maybe this was all part of the adventure.

He walked, and walked, for seemed like an hour, through the snow, with only the vague directions from the driver to go off of. He had the location on his phone, but of course that was dead and so was his portable charger.

He slipped, twice, and nearly fell down. Then, as he was walking under a tree, a large pile of snow fell on him.

Finally, exhausted and on the point of giving up, he found it.

The cabin was situated in a small clearing among the trees. It really was tiny. The pictures online actually made it seem bigger than it was. It was shocking that anyone lived here full-time. But Even had to admit it was cute.

It was sparse; there were only four rooms in the entire house. A kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom. There were very few decorations, but there were a lot of books, mostly about politics and socialism. It was also tiny. Even was pretty sure that if he stood in the middle of the room and extended his arms, he could hit the walls.

This is going to be harder than I anticipated, Even thought.

There was a fireplace, which would be cosy, and luckily there was enough firewood already chopped. Even wasn’t sure he’d have the gumption to chop his own. Though the cabin was minimal, it was fully equipped. Whoever this Jonas person was didn’t seem to be completely reliant on his own devices. He still had normal things like a coffeemaker, a microwave, and a washer and dryer. But there were also some odd things too, like a composting pit and an actual garden with vegetables growing in it. Or at least, Even thought there would be vegetables in it in the summertime. Now it was too covered by a mountain of snow to be sure.

He packed his things into the dresser in the bedroom, feeling slightly weird about moving Jonas’s things, but also not weird enough to warrant living out of his suitcase for the next two weeks.

“Great,” he said to himself after sliding his suitcase under the bed. “Now what?”

* * *

_Holy shit,_ Jonas thought as his taxi drove down Sunset Boulevard. It didn’t matter what else happened on this trip, the views alone were worth the 17 hour journey. He saw the sparkling blue ocean, palm trees dotting the sides of the roads, the Hollywood sign looking much smaller than he was expecting. This place was entirely out of Jonas’s world.

The car pulled up to a black gate that matched the address Even had given him. He punched a code into the box at the entry and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him when the gates swung open.

Jonas was staying in what was quite possibly the most lavish house he had ever seen.

It was huge. The garage alone was the size of his entire house, and the driveway was the size of his property. How could he have not known about this before he agreed?

Of course, he shouldn’t be surprised. Wasn’t everyone in L.A. basking in their own wealth?

He would deny it if ever asked, but Jonas secretly thought it was kind of spectacular. Every room was impeccable. Crisp and clean and precise, with decorations that looked eclectic, but were expertly curated together. The kitchen was three times the size of his own, with sleek brand new appliances. There was a fitness room, an immaculate office, three guest rooms, four bathrooms, a pool, and an in-home theatre.

_Who is this guy?_ Jonas thought.

He dragged his suitcase into the master bedroom and flung himself down on the bed, engulfing himself in fluffy white pillows. He looked at his watch. 7 pm in L.A. meant it was 4 am in Norway. He yawned. That was an acceptable time to go to sleep right? Jonas spotted something on the side table out of the corner of his eye, some sort of button. Curious, Jonas pushed it and laughed to himself as blackout curtains covered the windows. He yawned again and stretched out far in the king-sized bed.

This was going to be a very good vacation.

* * *

After spending 30 minutes trying to figure out how Jonas’s car worked, Even miraculously made his way to the closest store he could. He had only driven stick shift four times in his life, and he was mildly terrified he was going to destroy the car. Still, he prevailed.

He splurged and bought himself loads of fancy meat and cheese, Christmas chocolate, and a few beers (because he needed to relax, okay). He spent another hour once he got back trying to light a fire because, surprise, Norway was fucking freezing, and Even was pretty sure the radiator was already up as high as it would go.

Jonas had virtually no movies--at least not any worth watching--so Even settled on stealing a book. He trailed his fingers over the spines, trying to feel what would be the most interesting since, frankly, none of the titles particularly appealed to him. He settled on The Communist Manifesto but it was so unbelievably dull that Even ended up spacing out after the first five pages.

He paced around the house, rummaged through Jonas’s drawers, tried reading a different book. Gave up. He stared up and counted the planks in the ceiling. 42. He was restless. His fingers drummed against his legs, and he tapped out some unknown rhythm. He perused Jonas’s CD collection and found Illmatic.

Thank God, Even thought. At least this guy has some good taste.

Maybe putting on some Nas would make him feel less alone. He turned the stereo up loud and let the music settle around him. He concentrated on the beat, the lyrics, tried to close his eyes and imagine how he what he would film to go along with each track. The shots he would use, the coloring, the message. He listened to the whole album twice before finally admitting to himself that it wasn’t working.

Sighing, he cracked open a beer and went outside, wandering around the property. It was dark now, and the sky shone more stars than he had ever seen in his life. He stopped in his tracks and his heart settled a bit by the vastness of the world around him. He couldn’t hear any cars, only the sounds of whatever the hell kind of animals lived in these woods. Even watched his warm breath turn to clouds in the air, slightly obscuring his view.

It was incredible really, how vast the world was. How everything can be completely different from one place to the next, but everyone is still standing under the same sky. How everyone is out there, individually trying to live their own lives, work through their problems, be happy. And here he was trying to escape it all.

He had hoped that going away would make something click for him. Would remind him of everything he’s still got going for him, even after the decimation of the only real relationship he’s ever had. He had hoped that voluntary solitude would give him room to breathe, time to grow, help him learn to be an individual and rely on himself fully.

The truth was he had never felt more alone in his life.

_What am I doing here?_ He asked himself, rubbing his eyes. He finished his beer and chucked it in the garbage on his way back inside. Within three long strides he was in the bedroom, pulling his suitcase out, and shoving everything back in that he had unpacked only a few hours ago.

\---

Even jolted out of his dream. He had imagined going back to L.A., showing up on the doorstep of wherever it was that Sonja was staying, and begging her to take him back. He made promises to try harder and she made promises to give him more control. He picked her up and swung her around; they were happy again. And then, just as the camera was closing in on them, their faces inching closer with anticipation-- _KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK._

A heavy pounding on the door matched the pounding in his chest.

He laid in bed, hoping that it wasn’t actually someone knocking on the door, but instead some trick of the wind...or something. Another series of heavy knocks occurred and Even flung the covers off himsel. He considered turning on a light, but in case it was someone trying to murder him, he decided it was better to leave it off. That is, until he stubbed his toe on the dresser while trying to make his way to the door. Then he turned it on.

The pounding came again, this time accompanied by a voice. “Jonas, open the damn door! Please.”

Even only understood a few words, so when he didn’t say anything the voice spoke again, “Jonas, I can see your light is on, okay? I have to take a piss so bad and if you don’t open the door right now I’m gonna--”

Even swung open the door and saw an actual Christmas miracle standing in front of him. The guy was nearly as tall as Even, and around the same age, bundled up head to toe against the winter winds. Golden curls snuck out from underneath his beanie, and Even’s eyes met sparkling green ones. The stranger’s lips parted beautifully at the shock of Even opening the door, and his breath came out in short little puffs.

“You’re not Jonas,” he said, blinking. “Or if you are, I am...much, much drunker than I realize.”

“No, I’m not Jonas,” Even said, answering what he thought he might be saying.

“Regardless,” the boy responded, switching to English with an ease that shocked Even, “can I use the toilet?” He gestured inside with his head.

“Oh yeah, of course,” Even said, making way for him.

He rushed inside toward the bathroom, turning around quickly to offer a hand. “I’m Isak, by the way. Jonas’s best friend.”

“I’m Even,” he said grasping his cold hand. “I’m staying here for a couple weeks.”

The boy’s--Isak’s, mouth quirked up in a half smile and he gave Even’s hand an extra squeeze before detaching himself and running into the bathroom.

Oh my god, Even thought, turning to the mirror at the side of the door to fix his hair that had, unfortunately, fallen during sleep. _How could anyone possibly be that beautiful?_ He raked his hands through his hair a few times nervously as he heard Isak come back out of the bathroom.

He tried to look at relaxed as possible at the fact that _a literal angel_ just stumbled upon him in a stranger’s home in the Norwegian wilderness while he was in his _pajamas_. Oh god, this was mortifying. He just hoped the pounding of his heart wasn’t as audible to Isak as it was to him.

“So, where is Jonas exactly?” Isak asked, emerging from the bathroom, nearly overturning a lamp. He righted it, quickly and smiled sheepishly at Even. God he was cute.

“He didn’t tell you?” Even asked.

Isak’s face squished together as he said, “He may have? But, um, you see I’m a little...” He gestured his hands vaguely toward his head and stumbled forward a bit. He steadied himself on the wall and looked up at Even, leaning forward slightly more than was necessary. Not that Even minded.

“Right,” he laughed, “Uh, well, Jonas is in Los Angeles.”

Isak stared at him through hooded eyes, mouth parted slightly, trying to comprehend was Even was saying. “That’s not possible,” he said. “Jonas doesn’t go anywhere.”

Even laughed again, nervously. “Well we have that in common,” he said. “He listed this cabin on a home exchange website and I found it. So, we switch houses for two weeks. For the holiday. He’s at my house in L.A. and I’m, well, here.”

“People actually do that?” Isak asked.

“Apparently,” Even said. “It seems so. I mean, clearly since I’m here… in my pajamas.”

Isak looked at Even’s feet and crawled slowly back up his body. Even shifted awkwardly, but he wasn’t uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

He stared at Even until he seemed to realize it was his turn to speak. “Oh faen,” he said. “Jonas did try to call me yesterday, but I’ve been so fucking busy that I haven’t been able to get back to him.” He groaned, “Oh god, I feel awful now.” He stared at Even again with those enchanting green eyes before lurching forward a bit. “Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked. “I’m afraid I might bump into you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

Isak sighed and pushed himself off the wall, removing his scarf, coat, and hat in the process. His hair stuck up in the process and Even vaguely wondered what it would feel like between his fingers. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought.

“Are you okay?” he asked as Isak swayed on the couch.

“Yep, I’m good,” he said giving a thumbs up. “I’m sorry about the intrusion. I’m not usually this drunk when I come over.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were,” Even said, which earned a cheeky smile from Isak.

“Well, like I said, this isn’t normal for me,” he said. “But when I do happen to...uh, get as drunk as I am tonight, Jonas lets me crash here, so that I don’t do anything stupid like drive. Pathetic, I know. But it’s a routine now.” He shrugged and looked up at Even, squinting to focus on his face. “So how’s it going so far? I mean, until I came barging in and ruined your night.”

“Well you’re the most exciting thing that’s happened to me so far,” Even admitted. Isak blushed prettily and Even smiled. “But, um...it hasn’t been great. I’m actually leaving tomorrow on a noon plane.”

“Oh,” Isak said defeated. “When did you get here?”

“About,” Even said looking down at the imaginary watch on his wrist, “Six hours ago?”

“We’ve clearly made a great impression on you,” Isak laughed.

Even laughed too. “No no, it’s not that,” he said. “It’s just that I’m not really myself right now. I came here on a whim and I didn’t even think about this whole thing before I came. And I thought I was going to Oslo, but I get here and this cabin is in the middle of fucking nowhere. And I’m just a mess right now.” Isak stared at him with sympathy and Even realized he was babbling. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “A glass of water? Tea? A beer?”

“No,” he said shaking his head, “No more beer for me. But, if I know Jonas…” he trailed off, pushing himself off the couch and toward the kitchen. He rummaged around a bit before coming back. “Interested?” he asked, holding a small joint with his slender fingers.

Even nodded and Isak plopped back down on the couch, lighting it up. They passed the joint back and forth a few times in silence and Even almost felt like he could relax and enjoy himself here. But everytime they exchanged the joint, their fingers brushed and sent chills up Even’s arm.

“So,” Isak asked with a pregnant paused. He looked at Even expectantly, but when it was clear he didn’t understand, Isak said, “I’m sorry I’ve completely forgotten your name.”

“Even,” he said laughing, taking another drag of the joint. He let the smoke fill his lungs and exhaled slowly into the air.

“Even,” Isak repeated. “Do you mind if I stay on the couch tonight? I promise I’ll be gone before you wake up and you won’t ever have to think about me again.”

“Yeah,” Even said, standing up. “I’ll just get you a blanket.”

“In the cupboard,” he said pointing. “On top of the Scrabble.”

Even put the blankets next to Isak on the couch and stood there awkwardly, trying to figure out if he should stay, and continue smoking with Isak, or if he should go up to bed. The answer was decided for him when Isak patted the space next to him. Even sat down, close to Isak, ignoring the vibrations in his blood.

“So why is it that you’re not feeling like yourself?” Isak asked quietly.

“I..uhm…” He thought, for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer the question. He had gotten good over the years of answering only parts of questions. Revealing only half-truths, only things that people needed to know.

But here he was in a foreign country, getting high on a stranger’s couch with the stranger’s unbelievably good-looking best friend. He was leaving tomorrow anyway and would probably never see this guy again. What’s the worst that could happen.

“I just broke up with someone,” he started. “Someone I’ve dated for the last six years.”

“Six years?” Isak asked, eyes wide.

Even nodded, taking the joint again and leaning to join Isak against the back of the couch. “And I guess I thought I was afraid of feeling alone without them. So I thought if I voluntarily secluded myself it would force me to confront that, and deal with it in a way I’ve never had to before. But now I’m here and I’ve never felt more alone in my life. Which is ridiculous, really. Because all people are alone anyway.”

Isak turned to him, “Do you really believe that?”

“Hmm?” Even asked looking at him, their noses almost brushing.

“That all people are alone?”

Even shrugged, “Yeah, kind of. I was standing outside earlier and looking at the stars, and I was thinking about how there are all these different people all over the world, and we’re all just living our own lives, trying to figure out our own shit. And yeah there are others to help us sometimes, but they’ve got their own shit too. I mean, at the end of the day, it’s just you and your thoughts, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, adjusting himself so that their shoulders were touching. “But just because other people have their own shit doesn’t mean you can’t rely on them.”

“Maybe,” Even said in concession.

The joint lay finished in a cup on the table, but they still sat there, comfortable silence settling between them. He could feel Isak breathing next to him, the slight move of their shoulders coincided with the soft sighs coming out of his mouth. Even looked at him, and found that Isak was already staring back, eyes hooded from the joint, exhaustion, and drunkenness.

“You’re really handsome, you know that?” Isak said quietly.

Even laughed, eyes crinkling, “And you’ve had enough jay, haven’t you?”

“No I’m serious,” Isak said, turning himself to face Even. He still leaned against the back of the couch, but looked up at him with eyes that made him seem even younger than he was. He stared, unabashedly at Even’s mouth, before reaching up to stroke his bottom lip. “Whoever broke up with you was a fool for doing so.”

“It was mutual,” Even said automatically, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. His breath was coming short now and all he wanted to do was take Isak in his arms and taste his pretty pink lips.

He didn’t have to wait long before Isak nudged himself up and pressed his lips softly against Even’s.

He pulled back, and looked slightly taken aback at what he had done. But he didn’t apologize for it. Which Even had to admit was kind of hot.

Even let out a small laugh, and the corner of his lip twitched upward in a smile. “Would you mind, uh,” Even said, staring directly into Isak’s eyes, “trying that again?”

Isak grinned lazily and slotted their lips together again. Even’s eyelids fluttered as Isak pulled back.

“Was that okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Even breathed before pulling Isak in for another kiss. He pulled away and murmured, “This is so weird. I’m kissing a total stranger.”

“Really?” Isak asked. “I do it all the time.”

“I just-- I haven’t had a first kiss in six years. I don’t even know if I’m doing it right.” Even kissed Isak again. His fingers wove themselves through the curls at his neck and Isak’s mouth opened in a moan, allowing Even to lick inside it.

Isak pulled back. “Trust me,” he said. “you are.”

He leaned forward, brushing Even’s hair back from where it laid over his forehead. Softly, he brushed his lips over Even’s eyes, his cheek, his lips. Even couldn’t help the noise that escaped him as he lunged forward to capture Isak’s mouth in his. Isak’s tongue was warm against his and his mind was a blur of thoughts.

“You know,” he said pulling back, gasping. “Since I’m having a bit of a personal crisis, and I’m in a stranger’s home halfway across the world. And you’re here and you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever actually seen, I’m thinking we should have sex,” Even said. Isak’s eyebrows shot up at the suggestion. “If you want,” Even added quickly.

Isak rolled his eyes fondly, and cocked his head, “Is that a trick question?”

“I’m serious. I mean, you’re really drunk and probably won’t remember this anyway, and I’m leaving tomorrow and if it’s any consolation, I’ve never said or done anything like this in my entire life.”

Isak laughed and inched his face closer to Even’s silently asking for a kiss. Even’s eyelids fluttered closed as their lips met again and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips.

“It’s kind of exciting, isn’t it? Vacation is about doing the unexpected and you,” Even’s eyes bored into Isak’s, “are definitely unexpected.”

“This all sounded really great until I became the cabana boy,” he said cheekily.

“God, you’re funny too,” Even laughed.

“Yeah?” Isak asked. “Never meet me when I’m sober.”

“Deal,” Even said knotting his fingers into Isak’s hair and pulling him close. They kissed breathlessly, hands roaming each other’s bodies, finding their way under shirts, undoing buttons, dipping below waistlines.

“Just one really quick thing,” Even said putting a finger on Isak’s lips. He rolled his eyes fondly again, but nodded for him to continue. “I’m not very good at this.”

“This being…?”

“Sex. With men.”

“Oh.” Isak said pulling back.

“I’m pansexual, but my ex is a woman so it’s been awhile, since I’ve had sex with a man,” Even said, shocked at himself for how completely honest and vulnerable he was being. But there was something about Isak that made him want to say everything he’s ever thought without the fear of being judged. “Am I completely talking you out of this?” Even asked, looking up at Isak through his eyelashes.

“Not at all,” he admitted.

“Really?” Even asked.

Isak blinked slowly and nodded. Hesitantly, Even leaned forward again, brushing their lips together much like their first kiss. He pulled off, tugging on Isak’s bottom lip as he stood up. Isak leaned forward, blindly following his lips. Even backed up slowly toward the bedroom, not taking his eyes off Isak.

He watched Isak’s eyelids flutter before he pushed himself off the couch and lunged toward Even. Isak caught him in a kiss, one hand in his hair, the other on his waist guiding him backward. He pressed Even against the closed door of the bedroom bodies flush together. He fumbled with the door handle for a moment before pushing them inside. Isak’s hands tugged Even’s shirt over his head, and found their way far, far below his waistline. Even tugged at the button on Isak’s jeans and together they fell onto the bed, a mess of long limbs, kisses, and shedding clothes.


	3. Chapter 3

Jonas woke the next day feeling better than he had in months. He forced himself out of bed, because he could feel how easy it would be to let himself to wallow there all day. He didn’t mourn the loss too much though, because the shower was equally as indulgent as the bed.

God, everything this guy had was lush. Jonas partially hated himself for giving into such expensive pleasures. But another, larger part of himself was so fucking happy that he didn’t even care.

He got dressed and as he was toweling off his hair, he heard some noise coming from inside the house. Even did mention that he had a housekeeper who came on Wednesdays. But today was Friday. It was probably nothing to worry about, but still, he was cautious when he made his way downstairs.

He walked into the kitchen to find a stranger rummaging through the fridge.

“Halla,” Jonas said, and the man spun around, closing the fridge behind him, hands full of food.

“You’re not Even,” He said.

Jonas laughed. “No, I’m not,” he said. “Even is in Norway.”

“Yeah I know. That’s why I came by,” the stranger said. “Sonja wanted me to pick up a few of her things, and I know the code so I thought I would just let myself in. I didn’t think anyone would be here except maybe the gardner.”

“He has a gardener, too?” Jonas asked.

The stranger rolled his eyes, “Yeah I know. A gardener, a housekeeper. He’s ridiculous. I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t have a cabana boy too.”

Jonas laughed.

“I’m Mikael, by the way,” the stranger said, sticking out his hand. “Even’s best friend.”

“Jonas.”

“So Jonas,” Mikael asked beginning to make himself a sandwich with the food he grabbed from the fridge. “Why are you in Even’s house?”

Jonas laughed again, slightly amazed by how comfortable this guy was with finding a random person in his best friend’s house. “It’s a home exchange,” he said. “We swap everything for a couple of weeks. So Even’s in my house in Oslo, and I’m here.”

“That explains the shorts then,” Mikael said, smirking.

“Excuse me?” Jonas asked.

“You’re wearing shorts in December,” Mikael pointed out.

“It’s hot here,” Jonas said, and Mikael laughed.

“That’s the Santa Anas for you,” he said, pushing up the sleeves of his thin sweater.

“The what?”

“The winds,” Mikael gestured outside. Strong winds whipped the leaves on the palms outside. “It’s what makes it so warm this time of year.”

“Ah.”

“At least, warm for a Norwegian,” he said with a cheeky smile. Jonas narrowed his eyes and Mikael laughed. “Legend has it that when the Santa Anas blow, anything can happen. All bets are off,” he smirked. Jonas raised his an eyebrow, making him laugh again.

Silence settled around them and Jonas took the opportunity to really look at Mikael. He was nearly the same age as Jonas--perhaps a few years older--and he was striking. Slender, with light brown skin that contrasted well against his olive sweater. He kept running a hand through his long brown hair, and Jonas vaguely wondered if it was as soft as it looked. He looked content, completely nonplussed by the situation, and Jonas had a feeling that the lazy smile on his face was somehow always there. Mikael looked up at him with warm brown eyes and Jonas blushed a bit, realizing he was staring.

“Who is Sonja?” Jonas asked, blinking out of his reverie.

“Hmm?” Mikael asked swallowing the last bit of his sandwich.

“You said Sonja wanted you to get some things for her?” Jonas asked.

“Oh! Right,” Mikael said. “Sonja is Even’s ex. We were in the same music program at University. I met Even through her, actually.”

“And she wanted you to pick up…?” Jonas trailed off in a question.

“Some of her music books. She’s a violinist with the symphony.”

“Do you play in the symphony too?”

“No. I’m a film composer actually,” Mikael said.

“Really?” Jonas asked, impressed. “What have you done? Anything I’d know?”

Mikael smiled, sheepishly. “Nah probably not. It’s mostly smaller, independent films. A few TV shows. Oh, and the occasional commercial jingle.” He shuddered dramatically at the last point.

Jonas laughed, “Well I’ll have to look out for your name then, next time I see a movie. You might be the next Hans Zimmer.”

The other boy beamed, “Let’s hope so.”

They were silent after that. It was another strange, very comfortable silence. There was something easy about this guy’s energy that wiped away the fact that they were complete strangers not more than twenty minutes ago.

“Do you mind if I go grab that stuff for Sonja?” Mikael asked, shoving off the counter.

“Yeah go for it,” Jonas said. “You’re probably more welcome here than I am.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely true,” Mikael said with a grin. “I’m sure I wore out my welcome a long time ago, Even’s just too nice to tell me.”

He disappeared to fetch Sonja’s things and Jonas pulled out his phone. He had a few texts from Isak berating him for doing something so completely ridiculous, but also wishing him well on his vacation. As he was typing out a response to Isak, a message from Eva appeared and his heart flew to his throat.

**Eva Mohn:** “Call me once you land!! I want to hear EVERYTHING. I still can’t believe you’re treating yourself to a vacation..."

He smiled at the prospect of talking to Eva, but he also dreaded it. The whole point of this vacation was to forget about her. And here he was about to plunge himself in again.

**Jonas Vasquez:** “I’m free all day. Call me if you want.”

He thought that the coolness of the message would deter her from calling. He hoped it would at least. But the masochistic side of him still wanted her to call, wanted to hear her voice again, to feel some part of home.

His dangerous spiral of thoughts was interrupted as Mikael bounded down the stairs, stacks of music in his arms.

“Hey,” he said, slightly breathless. “I’ll go drop these off to Sonja and get out of your hair. But, it was really great meeting you Jonas. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah you too,” Jonas agreed walking with him to the door. “Feel free to come by again.”

“Hopefully I can give you a head’s up next time,” Mikael winked, and the two boys laughed. “I’ll see you.”

“Bye,” Jonas said as Mikael walked off. He watched him leave the gates and began enthusiastically talking with an older man just outside. Mikael gestured toward the house, noticed Jonas standing there, and waved another goodbye. The old man next to him waved as well, and Jonas returned it before going back inside.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out.

“Halla, Eva,” he said.

“Oh my god, Jonas!” She squealed. “I cannot believe you’re in Los Angeles. You never do anything like this, what happened?”

Jonas swallowed, and said softly, “Oh you know...just needed a change of scenery.”

“Well color me impressed, Vasquez,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Yes! Jonas, in the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never taken a vacation outside of Norway. And now you’re in L.A.?”

“Yeah it is pretty crazy I guess.”

“It’s incredible!”

“It’s nice,” he laughed. Jonas paused, weighing the consequences of what he wanted to say. “It’d be even nicer if--”

“Eva, are you almost ready to go?” he heard Noora’s voice through the phone, a sharp reminder of why he was here in L.A. and not back home in Oslo.

“Yeah yeah, nearly,” Eva shouted back. “Sorry, Jonas I’ve got to go. But please call me again soon. I want to hear about everything you do.”

“Yeah,” Jonas said, quietly. “Yeah I’ll try to do that.”

They hung up after a quick goodbye and Jonas leaned back heavily on the couch. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.

* * *

Even was in the middle of trying, for the third time that morning, to light the stove, when he heard a soft, “Good morning.”

He turned around and saw Isak, blinking and ruffled with sleep. He flushed a bit at the memory of what they did last night, and he bit his lip to keep the smile off his face. “Good morning,” he replied.

“Somehow,” Isak said, rummaging through his coat pockets, “I lost my contacts last night.” He pulled out a pair of thick rimmed glasses and put them on. “How do I look?” he asked with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“You look good,” he said, looking Isak up and down with a smirk. Isak blushed and smiled at the floor and Even tried not to acknowledge the way his pulse sped up at the sight of it.

“Does it smell like gas in here?” Isak asked, sniffing the air.

“Oh,” Even said, eyes widening in embarrassment. “I was trying to figure out the stove but I couldn’t. I think it might be broken.”

“Ah,” Isak said. He made his way over to Even and picked up the matchbox that was lying next to the stove. “It’s a really old stove and Jonas won’t replace it, so you have to manually light it.” He lit a match and turned the dial as low as it would go, before putting the match in the burner. He turned the heat back up a bit and placed the pan Even was using back on the stovetop.

“Right,” Even said nodding. “I should have tried that.”

“No worries,” Isak shrugged leaning against the counter. Even busied himself putting butter in the pan and pouring in the scrambled eggs. “So listen, Even, I--”

“Isak you don’t have to worry about anything here.”

“Okay?”

“I mean it was really great meeting you and everything,” Even said. Isak blushed again.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Definitely. You, um...I wouldn’t have known it had been a while for you...if you know what I mean.” He looked up at Even shyly, with a hint of mischief, and it took everything Even had in him not kiss him right then and there.

“Well, to be fair, you were drunk,” Even said, pointing his spatula at Isak.

“Not that drunk!”

“Okay,” Even said quirking his eyebrows.

Isak’s phone buzzed on the counter between them and Even quickly spotted the name Terje before Isak silenced it and put it in his pocket. He looked up at Even quickly and said, “I’ll call him back.”

Even nodded as he started rummaging through the cupboards. “Plates?” he asked. Isak opened the cupboard next to him and handed him one. “You don’t want any?” Even asked, scooping the eggs onto the plate.

“Nah,” Isak said pushing off the counter, “I should probably get going.”

“Right, yeah,” Even said looking at his watch. “I actually have to get going soon myself.”

Isak nodded. “Listen,” he said slipping into his hoodie. “I know you’re leaving and completely uninterested in getting involved. But just so you know, things in my life are complicated. And--and even if you were staying I can promise you that--”

“Isak, seriously, you don’t have to do this,” Even said. “I’m a mess in this area myself and, I mean, honestly we hardly know each other.”

Isak smirked, “Well I wouldn’t exactly say that. But, yeah. You’re probably better off and I--”

“Okay,” Even said.

Isak’s head snapped up at him, almost hurt. Even felt a pang in his chest. “Right, no need to go on then,” Isak said. “I just wanna make sure that you are okay though because I--I tend to...hurt people just by being myself and I--”

“I’m not going to fall in love with you, Isak. I promise,” Even said.

Isak closed his eyes and laughed to himself, “Yeah, you’re right. Nicely put by the way.”

Even laughed sympathetically. “No, it’s just that,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I just got out of a six year relationship and I...I’m not even sure I know how to be in love. Not the way you’re supposed to anyway.”

Isak stared at him and Even felt more vulnerable under that stare than he had when he was naked and panting beneath him the night before. He felt a shiver run down his spine and he longed feel Isak’s strong hand grip his neck again.

“Your ex-girlfriend is a fool,” he said.

Even looked down at his plate. “I’ll try to take that as a compliment, I guess.”

“You should,” Isak said earnestly. Silence settled around them and Isak gathered the rest of his things. “Right. Well. Thank you for your honesty. It’s refreshing,” he laughed, shrugging into his jacket. “And this is good because even if you did want to hear from me--which you clearly don’t--I’m terrible at following through. I always forget to call after a date. But, I guess, this wasn’t really a date was it? So, I’m off the hook,” Even laughed, and Isak smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“But what if I wanted to call you?” He asked, after a moment. Taking two steps closer to Even, he wrung his hat between his hands. Even stopped breathing and stared at him. “Right,” Isak said. “Clearly not the right thing to say, at all. But, if your flight is cancelled somehow or you decide to change your mind, I’m having dinner with a few friends tonight just up the road. And if not, then well, you’re incredible, Even. You really are.”

Even swallowed tight, and looked up into Isak’s warm, sincere eyes. “You are are too, Isak.”

He nodded, pulled his hat tight over his ears, and left.

\---

Even would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Isak’s words all day. He tried not to let them sink into his brain while he finished packing everything up. He tried to block them out as he took a cab to the airport. But here he was, standing in line for check-in, thinking about Isak.

It was the heat of the moment, he told himself. The spontaneity of the whole trip, coupled with the fact that Even was leaving made everything that much more exciting. Anyone would have done it. He was getting over Sonja. It was a rebound. It was fun, but that’s it. The end. Move on. Right?

There was something about him, though. The moment Even opened the door he could tell there was something different, something special. It helped that he was beautiful, yes. But just sitting there on the couch with him, Even felt more comfortable than he had in years. The whole day he had been acutely aware of his own self, how alone he was, and all the negative thoughts he had in his head. But something about Isak quieted them.

Even was a hopeless romantic, and if you had asked him five years ago if he believed in love at first sight, he would have replied with a resounding “YES!”

As the years wore on though and he progressed further in his work, the more he watched his friends’ relationships come and go, the deterioration of his own relationship with Sonja, he couldn’t help but get hardened to the idea that love at first sight wasn’t there. That love was something much more.

But god, after meeting Isak last night? He couldn’t help but think that maybe the younger version of himself was right.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts.

_Be realistic, Bech Næsheim,_ he thought to himself. _You can’t honestly believe that you could love a guy you met on a single night in Norway. You’re just high off the weed and the sex._

And it was true. He was under the influence. But smoking aside, Even is sure he would have felt the same. And yes the sex was...incredible. Better than with Sonja, better than anything he had ever felt before. Being intimate with a complete stranger is not something Even is particularly adept at doing. Even in college, before he and Sonja got together, he rarely did more than kiss a few strangers. Let alone have sex with them on a whim.

_But Isak._

Isak was different. There was no part of Even that could deny that. Isak made him feel cared for. Simultaneously was gentle and rough. It felt like Isak could sense his boundaries, but wasn’t afraid to push at them a bit. Sonja was always so tentative. She was kind and wonderful and very loving of Even. But she didn’t test him because she was afraid he would break.

Isak, though, held him as if he knew he could break, but was strong enough to keep himself together.

Was it crazy to feel this way after one night? He barely knew the guy other than what they had talked about both before and after they had sex, which frankly was not a lot.

He thought about Isak in the kitchen this morning. How easily he helped him with the stove, how comfortable he seemed to be standing beside him as he cooked. So many times, Even had wanted to reach out, pull him close, kiss him. He wanted to thread their fingers together and make him blush and run a hand through his hair to fix his bed head.

Even was afraid of how badly he wanted this boy. He hardly knew him, but he felt like there was some part of him that had known him forever. And he couldn’t help but think that maybe Isak felt the same.

Maybe it was the way he curled into Even while they slept. Maybe it was the way he lingered in the kitchen, not quite ready to leave. Maybe it was the earnest way Isak admitted that he wanted to call Even, even if Even didn’t want him to.

Maybe Isak wanted him just as badly.

Still. He couldn’t stay. Could he?

Even had a lot of baggage. He could barely sort it out for himself, and he needed time to do that. He couldn’t knowingly drag another person into his life like that. Not yet.

But fuck if that didn’t feel like destiny dragging Isak onto his front porch.

“Next!” A voice snapped Even out of his head. He looked ahead and saw the woman at the check-in counter smiling at him. He turned to the old woman behind him and gestured her forward.

He needed a taxi.

\---

Even sat in the pub drumming his fingers on his thigh. He thought this was the right one, but he honestly could be completely wrong. He didn’t know anyone in here, and he barely knew what to order. So he just settled on a Tuborg and sipped it quietly, throwing glances at the door every now and then, waiting for a blonde haired angel to walk through.

How long should he wait? He didn’t have anything else to do, but this was the whole reason he stayed behind. What if he didn’t show? What if Even had gotten the location wrong? They hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers. It was now or never and god Even really hoped it wasn’t never.

“Isak!” a trio of voices rang out and Even’s head snapped in their direction. He craned his neck slightly around the bodies that crowded his view. He saw him slap hands with a few people around the table before settling at the free seat against the wall, facing Even.

Even relaxed back into his seat as the crowd conveniently parted. Isak looked up mid-laugh and locked eyes with Even. His smile softened in a way that hit Even straight in the heart and god, Isak was beautiful.

He stood and made his way over to the bar.

“You stayed,” Isak asked, a little breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Even smiled, “Someone showed me that Norway isn’t all that bad.”

Isak blushed and smiled. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Only if I can buy you one after,” Even said, swallowing the last of his beer.

Isak blushed again, but moved closer, his hip pressing warmly against Even’s thigh. “I’d like that.”

* * *

Jonas was driving home after spending the morning walking on the beach, Christmas music playing through the stereo. He laughed to himself and turned it up as some [Christmas rap](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-DV1nI--d4) came on the radio.

_What kind of country is this?_ he thought to himself.

He pulled onto Even’s street, impressed with himself for being able to find it so easily after only a few days in the city. GPS helped, of course, but he was starting to recognize the neighborhood. As he turned the last corner, he noticed an old man standing on the corner with a walker. The same old man that he had seen Mikael talking to just a few days before.

“Excuse me?” he said, stopping the car and getting out. “Can I offer you a lift home?”

“Why?” the old man asked. “Do you know where I live?”

Jonas laughed, “I think I do actually.”

“Thank god one of us does,” he said. Jonas helped him into the car and drove a bit further, just beyond Even’s house.

“This is you, yeah?” Jonas asked, pulling into the driveway.

“Yes, finally,” he said. “You know, I’ve lived in this house for 50 years, and everything keeps changing. They’re always tearing down old houses and putting up new ones, each one bigger than the last. People don’t even care what the houses look like, they just want the biggest one on the block. It’s ridiculous,” he said with a grimace.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed the houses get bigger as they go on,” Jonas said, not trying to hide the disdain in his voice.

“Where are you from?” the old man asked.

“Norway,” Jonas said. “I’m here on holiday for a couple weeks.”

“You’re a long way from home aren’t you son?”

Jonas laughed, “A bit, yeah. But that’s sort of the point.”

The old man raised his eyebrows at him knowingly. “It’s a long story,” Jonas said.

The man nodded before trying to get out of the car. He struggled for a bit before Jonas got out and helped him to the door. The man’s hands were frail and shaking as he tried to fit the key in the lock.

“Do you mind if I try?” Jonas asked, gingerly taking the keys from his hands. He swung open the door and the old man hobbled inside. Jonas followed, putting the keys in the bowl by the door. The inside of the house was incredible. It was crowded with things. Things from all over the world that had been collected over a lifetime. He saw prints, sculptures, books, art, and a vast collection of films--one that even topped Even’s, and Jonas was sure he had never seen anything larger.

The old man settled himself into the chair in his office, and Jonas peeked his head inside. On display above the mantle, there were a dozen awards from the Golden Globes, the Emmys and even an Oscar.

Who is he? Jonas wondered.

“Well,” the old man said, “thanks for delivering me home. Who knows how long I would have been out there if you hadn’t found me.”

“It was my pleasure,” Jonas said. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jonas, by the way.”

“Harold,” the man said, taking it.

“This might be a bit odd, but since I’m new in town and don’t really know anyone do you maybe, want to get dinner tonight?”

“What would a strapping young guy like yourself want to have dinner with me for?”

Jonas shrugged. “I like meeting new people. And it’d be pretty lonely if I flew halfway across the world just to have dinner with myself wouldn’t it?”

\---

Three hours later, Jonas was at dinner with Harold.

“So you’re telling me that you’re actually Harold Watson. Like the Harold Watson. Critically acclaimed documentarian who has been decades ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to highlighting social issues?”

“Well don’t say it with so much fuss,” he said.

Jonas laughed, “How can I not? I mean, your documentaries have changed lives. They’ve changed my life.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” he said.

“I’m not being kind, I’m being honest,” Jonas said. “You’ve made such a difference in the way people see the world.”

“There’s still a lot of bad things going on, though, so don’t thank me yet.”

“There’ll be bad stuff no matter what. But you...you’ve--I mean you showed the truth when no one else wanted to. With Stonewall and LGBT rights in the sixties, drug culture in the 80’s and the effect that had on low-income communities. Hell, you did a documentary on climate change in the 90’s when hardly anyone realized what was going on!” Harold laughed and Jonas realized he was rambling. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop being such a fan in a minute it’s just...your last documentary--the one about the financial crisis--that really solidified my disdain for capitalism. I mean, to be fair I hated it before. But that one just punched me in the gut and made me realize how completely greed has taken over our world.”

“Are you finished?” Harold asked, when Jonas had finally paused.

“Yes, yes I’m done,” he said putting his hands up, “I’ll stop singing your praises.”

“Good,” Harold said. “I’m very shy. I hate recognition for what I do.”

Jonas laughed, “Then why did you go out and make these films, if you don’t want to be recognized?”

“Someone had to,” Harold said. “I told stories that were very personal to me. These things were affecting my life, as well as the thousands of others’ lives. I couldn’t just stand back and watch it all happen. I needed to spread the word. And the only way I knew how to get people to listen was through film. Creating a narrative within the truth, within fact. I made documentaries about gay rights, because I’m part of that community. I wrote about drugs in the 80s because my partner at the time was deeply affected by them. Even broad things like climate change and the financial crisis--people need to see the big picture. And if no one else was going to do that, then it fell to me.”

“Wow,” Jonas said.

“But enough about me,” Harold said waving his hands. “I need to hear about you. Why is someone as young as yourself flying halfway across the world to spend a Christmas holiday alone?”

“I just wanted to get away from the people I see all the time,” Jonas said. Harold leaned back and crossed his arms. “Okay,” Jonas continued. “One person. My ex-girlfriend. She..um...we’ve been best friends since we broke up and I just recently found out she’s dating our friend Noora.”

“So she’s bisexual,” he shrugged. “Is that the problem?”

“No no no,” Jonas shook his head. “Of course not. The problem is that I’m still in love with her. And I thought we were really good friends, but she didn’t feel like she needed to tell me she’s been dating Noora for the last four months. I just feel really stupid.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s been years. And I was finally feeling like we might be able to get back together, or something. But now I’m just hit in the face with the fact that it’s not possible. So now I’m here. Trying to move on. I just feel like I’ve wasted so much time on her.”

“You still care about her, right?” Jonas nodded. “So would you rather have spent the last two years a little in love with her, but have her in your life? Or would you rather spend them without her at all?”

“I’d always choose to have her in my life. She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. But how do you even try to find love like that again with someone new?”

“You don’t,” Harold said. “Love is magical, but it’s not going to fix you. You need to do that yourself. And besides, even when you find love again it won’t be the same. What you had with that girl was special, but the next person you love is going to feel completely different.”

Jonas sighed, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Harold said. “I’ve been on this earth for 84 years. You think I haven’t felt like you? I know what it’s like. And I know it’s a load of crap to hear that things will get better. But they will. You just have to make it happen.”

* * *

There was something tickling Even’s nose. He scrunched it, trying to dispel the feeling, and rubbed his nose hard when that didn’t work. The third time it happened, he heard a soft giggle above him.

Even opened his eyes, blinking into the morning light and his face melted into a smile when he saw Isak smiling down at him.

“Good morning,” he murmured, softly pressing his fingertip to Even’s nose.

He groaned and pulled the covers up around him, burrowing down deep. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Isak chuckled again and Even thought he could get used to that sound. The vibrations echoing quietly around the room. “You’ve been asleep for so long,” he said brushing the hair back from Even’s face. “I almost got worried.”

“You kept me up late,” Even said.

“Yeah but you slept even longer than me. And I sleep like the dead,” Isak laughed. He traced a finger over Even’s features. Trailing his eyebrows, down his nose, the curve of his lips where his thumb lingered. Even’s teeth softly nipped down on it and he savored the way Isak’s eyelashes fluttered and his mouth curved into a smile.

“What time is it?” Even asked.

“Nearly 12:30.”

“And you stayed?”

His features softened and a small blush crept up his neck. “You asked me to,” he said, as if that was the answer to everything.

Even groaned again and pulled the covers over his head. “I did didn’t I?” Even peeked his head out. “I didn’t...beg...did I?”

Isak moved over top of him, hands braced on either side of Even’s head. He lowered himself so their lips were just a hair’s breadth apart. “Not about me staying,” Isak said, voice a little rough. He pressed himself down and slotted their lips together. One of Even’s hands knotted in his hair while the other pulled his hips down so they were flush. “But you may have begged about some other things.”

Even pushed Isak off him while the younger boy laughed, and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“I liked it though,” Isak said with a smirk moving back on top of Even.

He straddled him, and brushed their noses together gently before licking inside Even’s mouth. Isak’s hand held tight to the hair at the base of Even’s skull, and Even pulled Isak’s hips down, grinding them against each other. Isak’s lips moved, exploring Even’s neck, sucking a bruise into his collarbone. Even couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped him--not that he particularly wanted to--and he flipped Isak over so he was beneath him. He rolled his hips down, pressing Isak into the mattress and relished in the sound that escaped his lips. He captured their lips together again, until a phone started buzzing next to them.

“Magnus,” Even said, handing Isak his phone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look. Again.”

“Oh shit, I’d better take this.” Even rolled off and Isak scurried out of the room muttering a quick “Halla,” as he tugged on his jeans.

Even sighed and leaned back against the pillow. He could hear Isak talking in the next room, but didn’t know what he was saying.

“Terje, Magnus...Even,” he muttered to himself. It wouldn’t surprise Even if someone as beautiful as Isak was seeing multiple men. He had every right to. Even had no claim on him whatsoever. He rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes at he tried to quell the jealousy rising in his mind.

Isak burst back into the room and he was a sight to behold. Wearing nothing but a pair of tight jeans, he beamed at Even.

“I think we should go into town,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Even asked sitting up.

Isak tugged on his sweater from last night. “I think you should get dressed, we can go for a drive, maybe get some lunch and get to know each other.”

“Why?” Even asked.

“Because I’m running out of reasons why we shouldn’t,” Isak said, walking over to him. He leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on Even’s lips. “Aren’t you?”

\---

“So Even,” Isak said once they had been seated at a table. He folded his hands in front of them on the table and leaned forward. “How long have you lived in L.A.?”

“Seven years.”

“And you said you make movie trailers?”

“Yes, I own a company that makes movie trailers,” he nodded.

“You own it?” Isak asked shocked.

Even just laughed. “Yeah I do,” he said sheepishly.

“Amazing. So what did you study at university?”

“Advanced Film Studies.”

“Did you always know that was what you wanted to do?”

“Do you interrogate all your dates like this, Isak?” Even laughed.

Isak blushed and sat back in his chair, “Shut up.”

“No I’m serious. I feel like I’m on a job interview or something.”

“Didn’t you know? This is how dates go nowadays. I know you haven’t been on one in six years but this is what the world is now.”

Even kicked Isak lightly under the table and Isak trapped Even’s foot between his own. Even tried to suppress the blush that crept up his neck, and he busied himself readjusting the silverware on the table. When he finally looked at Isak, he was staring at him with such fondness, such warmth, that Even felt flushed all over.

“What was the question?” He asked.

Isak broke into a smile. “Did you always know you wanted to make movie trailers?”

“Sort of,” Even said. Isak raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. “I always knew I wanted to study film. I wanted to be a director for a really long time. But the more I worked on movie and tv sets, and the more I studied about film as a whole I realized that a huge part of the magic behind them is the trailers.”

“Explain,” Isak said.

“I mean, think about it. You’re not going to see a film without watching the trailer first, right? You need to know what it’s about. You want to know the highlights, but you still like the mystery that’s left behind. I think I’ve gotten very good at doing that over the years,” he said. “I wanted to be a director because I liked the control of it. But I get to do that same thing here. I get to decide what scenes make the cut, what song to use to evoke a certain emotion. It’s a completely different type of art than I expected myself to love. And it’s awesome to take this thing that a whole bunch of people have poured their hearts into and creating something that draws others in too.”

“That’s beautiful,” Isak said. Even laughed, rolling his eyes. “No I’m serious. I mean I don’t know shit about movies and you would probably kill me for my taste in them. But the fact that you’re so passionate about it is incredible.”

“Thanks,” Even said. “But my time is up. Tell me: who is Isak Valtersen and what made him the man sitting in front of me today?”

“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Me. Uh, well I’m working on becoming a neuropsychologist. So that means I want to do more research on the brain and all the different things that affect it like Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s or mental illness. I think I wanted to do that because of my mom? She...she’s schizophrenic and she collapsed after my dad left when I was about 15. I did not handle it well. I don’t know what I would have done if Jonas hadn’t been there for me. He let me stay with his family for a while, and I ended up moving into a flat with roommates. Did the whole high school thing, came out at the end of it after years of being deeply in the closet. Moved on to uni and tried to patch things up with my parents. It’s fine now, with my mom but Terje--my dad--it’s...it’s still a bit difficult. Anyway can we eat yet?” he asked in a rush.

Even cleared his throat, “Wow. That’s...thank you. For telling me.” He tried to put as much sincerity behind his words as he felt. Isak nodded his head. “I mean it, Isak.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You probably didn’t need to know all of that but, like I said I tend to hurt people by being myself and my honesty seems to be the biggest cause of that. But I learned the hard way what keeping secrets does to you, and I told myself I’m not going to do that again. So here I am. Sharing more than necessary.”

Even leaned across the table and kissed Isak softly. It was hard, with the table in the way, but worth it when Even pulled back and saw him blush.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“You’re incredible,” he said nonchalantly. “Wanna order?”

\---

Lunch took hours. The conversation flowed easily and they talked about everything they could think of. They talked about their friends, past relationships, and taste in music. They both shared a love of hip hop, but Isak embarrassingly did not know who Nas was, despite insisting that he did. They talked about their favorite foods, their visions for the future, and how many different parallel universes there are.

Afterward they walked around town, Isak showing Even some of his favorite places, and Even marvelling at the views. They wandered through the Christmas market, shoulders brushing, sharing warm glances. In the center of the market they found an ice skating rink. Isak cocked an eyebrow.

“Interested?” he asked.

Even ran a hand through his hair, “I..uh...have never been.”

“What?”

Even shrugged.

  
“How?”

“I just never wanted to try. I wasn’t very athletic, as a child. More of the artsy type,” he said, tucking his head into his shoulders.

“Well then we’re definitely doing this,” Isak said pulling him closer to the stall.

“You’re serious?” Even asked.

“As serious as a heart attack.”

Isak paid for their skates and they put them on. Though it was unnecessary, Isak insisted on helping Even tie his skates. The image Isak made, crouching between his legs made it extremely difficult for Even not to get a boner right there. But he resisted, given the fact that there were children all around. Even though Isak looked absolutely delectable.

“There,” Isak said looking up at him. “You’re all set.”

“I hope you’re prepared to see me look like an absolute fool.”

“Why else do you think I’m doing this?” Isak whispered against his lips.

Even pulled him in tight for a kiss before Isak pulled them both out onto the ice. He started out facing Even, pulling him along behind him like a parent with a child. After ten minutes of this, Even could tell Isak was getting a little frustrated.

“You have to push yourself, Even,” he said.

“Why would I do that when I can just keep staring at you while you pull me?” Isak rolled his eyes and stopped suddenly, pulling Even into a hard kiss. Even smiled into it and his mouth opened, licking into Isak’s.

“I hate you a little bit, you know that?” Isak said pulling away.

Even kissed his nose, “No you don’t.”

Isak rolled his eyes again and turned, pulling Even alongside him. He helped Even push each foot off to the side, holding his hand so he stayed upright. They circled the rink three times together before Isak pushed Even off on his own. He was mildly terrified, but mostly because he wanted the excuse to keep holding Isak’s hand. Not that he needed an excuse, really. He was fairly sure he could reach for Isak’s hand at any time of day and not get denied. Still, there was something exciting about holding it while they were skating.

He made it around twice, passing Isak with a smile, but on the second time around, he failed to stop properly and he crashed into Isak. They fell onto the ice in a mess of long limbs, and even though Even practically had the wind knocked out of him, it was sort of worth it to hear Isak’s peal of laughter.

Even groaned, rolling his head back against the ice. “You forgot to teach me how to stop.”

“I realized that right after I let you go,” Isak giggled.

“And you didn’t stop me when I passed you?” Even said in mock shock.

He felt Isak shrug next to him. “I wanted to keep watching you.”

Even turned to look at him. He was beautiful, lying there on the ice, staring back at Even with wide eyes. He felt something warm bloom inside his chest, and he leaned over to kiss him. His mouth was warm, compared to the cold surrounding them, and Even laced his fingers into Isak’s hair, pulling him close. Isak went pliant beneath his hands, and it took a lot of strength for him to remember that they were currently lying down in the middle of an ice rink and couldn’t keep kissing.

Isak chased his lips as he pulled away and Even smiled. “We should probably get up now shouldn’t we?” Isak asked.

Even nodded, “Yeah. It’s fucking freezing down here.”

\---

On the drive back, Even couldn’t stop staring at Isak. The waning light danced off his curls and Even wondered if he was actually sitting there beside him. The past two days felt like a dream, and he kept waiting for the bubble to pop, for reality to set in.

Stuff like this didn’t actually happen, did it? You didn’t meet a handsome stranger in a foreign country and begin to feel the possibility of something greater. That kind of thing only happens in film.

That’s why Even loved movies so much. The hard parts of life disappeared, and you were left with something spectacular, something mind blowing, something completely life altering. Movies allowed you to suspend reality and hope for something greater. They reminded you that magic existed, even in everyday life.

And this. Whatever this was between he and Isak was some form of magic.

“What do you keep staring at?” Isak asked, taking his eyes off the road to briefly look at Even.

“You,” he said, quietly.

“Me? You’re staring at me?” Isak asked.

“Mhmm,” Even murmured. “You’re framed beautifully right now. Makes me want to film you.”

Isak blushed and blindly reached for Even’s face, trying to make it face forward again. Instead, Even captured his hand and brought his fingers to his lips. Isak stroked his thumb over the back of Even’s hand as he parked the car. He unbuckled and turned to Even.

“I had a lot of fun with you today,” he said.

“Me too,” Even said. He stared at their intertwined hands, playing with Isak’s fingers. “Look, you don’t have to walk me to the door or anything. I know it’s freezing out.”

Isak laughed, “You know you can just tell me if you don’t want me to come in.”

“No no,” Even said, “It’s not that. I’m just really tired. I’m probably going to take a nap or something.”

“Okay,” Isak said, smiling, “I’ll pretend I believe you.”

“No really,” Even said. “It’s just that...I’m leaving. In nine days. And that makes things complicated. And I’ve...never been great at handling complicated.”

He nodded in understanding, “Okay.”

Even captured his lips one more time, hands cupping either side of Isak’s face. His mouth opened easily and he tugged Even closer.

When Even pulled away, Isak asked, resting their foreheads together, “That doesn’t make things complicated?”

“Sex makes everything complicated, doesn’t it?” Even asked, pulling back to look at him. “Even when you don’t have it.”

“Which is why it’s generally better to have it. Some say.” Isak grinned. “Right, well, I’ve got to work in the morning. I promise I won’t come drunkenly banging on your door any time soon.”

“You know I wouldn’t mind if you did,” Even said, stroking Isak’s cheek. “We’ll see each other though. We’ll figure something out.”

“Good,” Isak said, kissing him one more time.

So Even left, pausing for a long time at the door, waving goodbye to Isak and watching him drive away.


	4. Chapter 4

“So I know I said I would try to give you a warning the next time I came over,” Mikael said as soon as Jonas answered the door. “But I don’t have your number. So I’m really hoping that me knocking on the door was warning enough, as opposed to just walking into the house and scaring you.”

Jonas laughed, “Hi Mikael, how are you?”

“Starving. You? I wanted to swing by and see if maybe you were interested in getting a bite to eat?” He asked leaning back on his heels, hands in his pockets.

“Well actually,” Jonas grinned. The sound of clinking glasses could be heard from the door and Mikael’s eyes widened.

“Oh shit,” he said shaking his head. “You have company. I’m sorry I can--”

“No no no,” Jonas said, “You’re fine. Come on in. I’m just having a little Hanukkah party.” He stood aside and gestured Mikael inside.

“Hanukkah party?” he asked. “Did you join a temple since I last saw you?”

Jonas laughed, “Not quite. My neighbor--or Even’s neighbor I guess--knew that I didn’t know anyone so he invited a few friends over and it turned into a Hanukkah thing. Come on. There’s plenty of food.”

They walked toward the kitchen, and Jonas introduced him saying, “Everyone, this is--”

“Mikael!” Harold said, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Hey Harold, how are you?” Mikael said, going over to kiss the old man’s cheek.

“You two know each other?” Jonas asked.

“Of course we do,” Harold said. “Mikael is the best. He comes over every once and awhile to make sure my piano gets some good use.”

“Harold, come on,” Mikael said. “We both know I’m there to see your wife.”

Harold and his friends all laughed. “She’s nearly four times your age, son.”

“Age is but a number,” Mikael waved his hand with a cheeky grin.

“Sylvia is a looker isn’t she?” Norman said. Mikael nodded enthusiastically.

“Stunning,” Greta agreed. “You got the luck of the draw with that one.”

“Not just with her though,” Bert said, pointing a finger. “You can’t forget Theo.”

“How could anyone forget Theo? This lucky bisexual got the best of both worlds,” Norman said, jabbing a finger at Harold.

“Hang on,” Jonas interjected. “I’m confused. You’re married?” he asked Harold.

“I am,” he said. “To the best woman in the world.”

“For how long?” Jonas asked.

“Only about 25 years. I met her only a few years after Theo died, and we got married not long after.”

“And Theo is?”

“Theo was my reason for everything. He was the reason I became a director. The reason I did documentaries on LGBT and Civil rights, drugs. He’s the reason I fell in love with Sylvia so quickly. I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t known him.”

“That’s really beautiful Harold,” Mikael said. “Makes me wish we knew him.”

“Oh you would have loved him,” Harold said, and Mikael beamed. “He was full of light, even when darkness twisted inside him. He never stopped moving and he always had a smile on his face. Kind of like you,” he said nudging Mikael who blushed.

“So what happened?” Jonas asked.

“He died of a drug overdose in 1989,” Harold said matter-of-factly. “We knew it was probably going to happen. Addiction is a hard life. And it hurt like hell for a while. But then I met Sylvia and she changed my world. I struggled for a while, not knowing if I should go after her. I mean I was nearly 60 at the time. But I knew Theo would have wanted me to be happy. So I asked her out. And we got married a year later.”

“Wish you’d gone and stayed miserable so you could have left her for me,” Greta sassed and everyone erupted into laughter.

“Maybe after I’m dead you can swoop in,” Harold teased. They all went on talking about their past, teasing each other about who was really going to get Sylvia in the end.

“I’m telling you all,” Mikael said after a minute of debate. “I’m the front runner here. I really think she would pick me. I can play three different instruments, I’m hilarious, I’m a great lover. Need I go on?”

“If you’re so great,” Norman teased, “How come you’re not settled down yet?”

Mikael laughed, “I just told you, I’m saving myself for Sylvia.”

“No no no,” Harold said. “Cut the crap. You’re one of the best kids I know. What’s the deal?”

Jonas looked at Mikael and his ever-present smile dimmed a bit as he thought. “Just haven’t found the right person yet I guess,” He chuckled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You will,” Harold said, putting a hand on his arm. “Whoever they are.”

Mikael nodded in a way that convinced Jonas he didn’t fully agree, and he wondered what was really going on in Mikael’s head. He didn’t have time to linger on it before everyone was standing up, readying themselves to leave.

“Norm,” Mikael said, standing up to clear plates. “Call me for pinochle sometime.”

“I’ve got your cell. I’ll be in touch,” Norman said.

Mikael kissed both Greta and Bert on the cheek and gave a quiet, “I’ll see you soon,” to Harold.

Jonas walked everyone out, thanking them for coming. Harold turned to him, putting an hand on his arm and dropped his voice down low. “Keep an eye on that one for me, while you’re here,” he said, gesturing inside about Mikael. “He’s a good kid who needs a little more umph in his life.”

Jonas laughed, “Alright, I’ll do that. See you in a few days.”

He went back inside and found Mikael scraping dinner plates and putting them into the dishwasher. His hair, which had been down at dinner, was now pulled back into a tight bun. “You really don’t have to do that,” Jonas said. “I can handle it on my own.”

Mikael shrugged. “You let me crash your party. It only makes sense that I help clean up. Plus,” he added, “I probably know how to where everything goes better than you do.”

Jonas laughed, rolling up his sleeves, “Then at least let me do the handwashing.”

“You wash, I’ll dry?”

“Deal.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes and Jonas was struck again at how comfortable it was to be in Mikael’s presence, even though he hardly knew the guy.

“So you already knew Harold?” Jonas asked.

“Yeah,” Mikael said. “It’s um, well...it’s not really a _funny_ story how we met, exactly. But I was over here one day just hanging out, and Even and Sonja started going at it. And at this point I was just over the whole thing, so I dipped out, started to take a walk until they both cooled down and Even needed space. And I bumped into Harold and Sylvia in front of their house. We got to talking, and Sylvia invited me inside for lunch and after that it just became a regular thing.” Mikael shrugged, “I may have freaked out a little bit when I realized who he was, but somehow he still lets me come over.”

“You freaked out too?” Jonas asked.

“Yeah, did you?”

“Completely,” Jonas said, handing Mikael the last dish and toweling off his hands. “I’ve seen nearly everything he’s done. He’s made such an impact on my life in ways that I didn’t even realize until I started talking to him.”

“Like what?” Mikael asked, leaning against the counter.

“Like my politics, my understanding of LGBT issues and other social problems, my desire to make some sort of impact on the world, even if it’s small.”

“I think you’ll do that,” Mikael said.

“You do?” Jonas asked looking up at him. His brown eyes were warm and earnest. “Why?”

“There’s just,” he said quietly, “Something about you. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Do you want any of these leftovers before you go? I won’t be able to eat it all.”

“I mean, if you insist,” Mikael said dramatically.

Jonas laughed and searched in vain for tin foil, or plastic wrap, or some sort of container to put the food in. Mikael cleared his throat behind him, and Jonas turned around to see him holding a tupperware.

Jonas rolled his eyes, “I should just let you do this, shouldn’t I?”

He felt a bit proud at the strength of Mikael’s laugh. “It’s more fun to watch you struggle though,” he said.

Jonas hip checked him as he closed the lid of the container. Mikael grabbed his jacket and Jonas followed him to the door.

“Thanks again for letting me crash your dinner. It was really great hanging out with you and a bunch of old folks,” he said.

Jonas laughed, because he knew Mikael was joking, but he also hoped he wouldn’t mind doing something like that again. “Yeah we should do it again soon.”

“We will,” Mikael said. He leaned down and quickly kissed Jonas on the cheek. Mikael had kissed everyone else goodbye that night, so it wasn’t the kiss that surprised Jonas. What shocked him was the strange sort of warmth he was filled with when Mikael leaned closer to him. His hand automatically went to his cheek when Mikael pulled back and Jonas let out a disbelieving laugh. “What was that for?” he asked.

The older guy looked a little sheepish, but smiled. “Mistletoe,” he said, pointing up to the top of the door. “Anyway, I should go,” Mikael said, bouncing off the porch. His hair whipped around him as he spun around in the warm night. “Now this, is officially crazy weather,” he shouted with a laugh.

“Don’t blow away!” Jonas shouted as Mikael waved.

_Anything can happen,_ Jonas remembered.

* * *

Even paced around the house for hours after Isak had dropped him off.

_I’ve never been good at handling complicated?_ He thought to himself. _What kind of piss poor excuse is that?_

He’s gotten very good at dealing with complicated over the years. He’s navigated the ups and downs of Hollywood while fighting to maintain some stability in his mental illness. He navigated a relationship that flipped upside down midway through their third year and while, yes he can’t say he handled it well, he still understood where he went wrong, and he knows how he could handle it better. He now knows what not to do in a relationship. So, while he’s not particularly great at complications, he knows it’s something he needs--something he wants to get better at.

And he wanted to get better at it for Isak.

It didn’t make any sense to him. How he could want to change his life so completely for someone he met only a handful of days before.

But there was something bewitching about him. The ways his eyes seemed to always dance with mischief, a sharp comment always on the tip of his tongue. How he looked up at Even with such softness, as if trying to figure out if he was actually real, and not something he conjured out of a dream.

And Even could feel himself look at Isak the same way. Constantly wondering what sort of god existed out there for Isak to be put in his life so abruptly, making Even question everything.

He didn’t know what he was doing, and he felt like he had no control over his own mind and heart. But for the first time in his life, that didn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

In a second he was out the door.

\---

He walked up the steps to Isak’s house three different times. He kept nearly arriving, nearly knocking on the door, before retreating almost entirely back to the car.

He knew he looked crazy. Like some spaz who couldn’t make up his mind. And he felt like it. This week he’d been giving into his impulses more than he had over the last four years, and the voice in the back of his mind kept telling him how dangerous it was. The more he let the voice have control, the more it started to sound like Sonja, and Even remembered what he was doing here in the first place.

This was his life. He was in control.

He knocked, and held his breath. Part of him hoped Isak wouldn’t answer the door. That it would be some sign from the universe that Even was being ridiculous. But the larger part of him was aching to see him. It was unbelievably difficult to leave him this afternoon, and Even regretted turning him away with every step he took.

“Hello,” Isak said, shocked, when he opened the door.

“Surprise,” Even said.

“Yeah it is,” Isak said. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was at home and thinking about you and I felt really terrible for sending you away earlier. I don’t really know what that was, because honestly, this whole thing between us probably isn’t as complicated as I think it is. And even if it was, a little complication can be good sometimes and,” Even paused as he saw a man walk through the room behind Isak. “Oh my god you’re not alone are you?”

“Um, not really,” Isak said. “I’m sorry.”

“No no, oh my god. Don’t apologize,” Even said, hurriedly, “I’m the one who came over with absolutely no warning, so I’ll just--”

“Hey, Is,” the man said coming to the door. “Who are you talking to?”

“Uh, Magnus,” Isak said. “This is Even. Even, Magnus.”

“Nice to meet you man,” Magnus said, sticking out a hand. Even shook it with a nod. “Do you want to come inside? It’s freezing out there and we were just about to sit down for some dessert.”

“Oh no,” Even said. “I couldn’t impose like that.”

“It’s not an imposition at all,” Magnus said. “Right Is?” He nudged Isak, who blinked at them as if just remembering where he was.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said quickly. “Of course. Come inside.”

They both stood aside as Even entered the house. It was much warmer inside, and Even noticed a fire going in the sitting room.

“I’ll go help your mom in the kitchen,” Magnus said, patting Isak on the back as he passed.

Isak nodded and looked up at Even through his eyelashes. He seemed so much smaller now than he actually was.

“I shouldn’t stay,” Even said. “If I had known you were seeing someone I would never have--”

“What?” Isak asked, eyebrows quirking in confusion. “You think I’m dating Magnus?” He burst into a fit of giggles and seemed much more like the Isak that Even had come to know, rather than the quiet, uncomfortable version of himself he had been since he opened the door.

“So,” Even asked, “You’re not then?”

“Oh god no,” Isak said putting his face in his hands. He let out one more laugh before composing himself. “Magnus is,” he cleared his throat, “He’s one of my best friends. We’re in the same program at school and we uh...we help each other out sometimes. With our mothers.”

Even was confused, but didn’t have time to linger because a small woman appeared through the door behind Isak.

“Everything is ready, Isak,” she said. “Oh, who is this handsome man?”

Even smiled at the woman’s soft nature and the way she came up quietly beside Isak.

“Mom,” he said wrapping an arm around her, “This is Even. Even, I’d like you to meet my mother, Marianne.”

“How do you do?” She asked, reaching out a hand.

“I’m good thanks,” Even responded, shaking it. “And you?”

“Very well. Ready for dessert,” she said turning around and immediately walking into the kitchen.

Isak laughed a bit and looked up at Even, timid. “I’ll explain more later,” he said. “Shall we have some dessert?”

Even smiled, “As long as you promise me you’re not seeing anyone.”

Isak stepped forward into his space, and Even’s breath caught. Their fingers brushed together as Isak ran his nose along the length of Even’s.

“Only you,” he whispered into his lips. Even’s eyelids fluttered as Isak pulled away, gently tugging his hand toward the kitchen.

\---

“So Even, where are you from?” Magnus asked, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth.

“I’m from L.A.” Even laughed when Magnus’s eyes looked like the would pop out of his head.

“Why’d you come all the way here?” He asked in amazement.

“I just needed to get away for a while,” he said, looking at Isak, who smiled softly at him.

“You’re far from your family then,” Marianne said. “That must be hard.”

“Not really,” Even said, honestly. “I’m only really close with my mom. I’ve been too busy the past few years to come home for the holidays. But I call her every few weeks, so it’s not too bad.”

“Well, if you need a place to stay to feel like a home, you’re welcome here,” Marianne said.

Isak scrunched his face up adorably, “Nei, Mamma. He’s staying at Jonas’s place. He doesn’t need to stay here.”

“Oh fy faen!” Magnus shouted. “You’re _that_ Even?”

Even laughed and looked at Isak for help, but Isak was too busy blushing and hiding his face in his hands to be any use.

“Yes Magnus, he’s that Even,” Isak said exasperated. “Who did you think he was?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t really think about it.”

Isak shook his head, laughing and looked at Even apologetically. Even just looked fondly back. He couldn’t be certain, but he had a sneaking suspicion that meant Isak had mentioned him to his friend. It could have been just offhandedly mentioning the fact that Even was staying in Jonas’s house. But something about the blush on Isak’s cheeks made him think he had told him more than that.

He was thrilled at even the possibility of it, and he reached for Isak under the table. Isak ducked his head and gave Even’s hand a squeeze before even pulled it away.

“Are you religious, Even?” Marianne asked. He sputtered a bit at the bluntness of the question.

“Mamma,” Isak said, almost as a warning. She seemed not to hear him and looked at Even expectantly. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, Even,” he said in a low voice.

“Not exactly,” Even answered her. “My best friends are Muslim, and I read the Quran a few years ago in Arabic. But I’ve always had a complicated relationship with it personally.”

Marianne nodded as if she understood, but there was something in her eyes that made him doubt that all his words made it through to her.

“I’ve always loved it,” she said, looking up at the ceiling as she spoke. “Especially around Christmas. God is so important, all the time. But during Christmas we can focus so much more on Him, and thank Him for everything He has done for us, and everything He will continue to do.”

Even nodded and looked at Isak, who stared down at his plate with tight lips. Magnus smiled somewhat apologetically at Even, though he couldn’t quite figure out why.

“It’s getting late,” Isak said, looking at his mother. “You’re probably getting tired?”

“Oh yes, you’re right,” she said, as if she hadn’t even thought about it until Isak brought it up. “I should get to bed soon.”

“I should be off soon too. Can’t spend all night with my second mom,” Magnus said, giving Marianne a squeeze. She laughed, and they all rose, walking out to the foyer. Magnus gave Marianne a kiss on the cheek, slapped Isak’s hand, and pulled Even in for a surprising hug. “It was nice meeting you,” Magnus said.

“Yeah you too,” Even smiled.

“Do you need help, or can you handle it on your own?” Isak asked his mother.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. She reached up, and cupped his face in both hands. “I love you, my dear dear son.”

He closed his eyes, as if trying to savor her words. Even watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed whispering, “I love you too,” and pressing a kiss into her head.

She turned to Even and grasped both of his hands. “It was so nice to meet you, Even.”

He beamed at her earnestness, and the sincerity in her smile, “You too.”

She squeezed his hands and went upstairs.

Isak looked up at Even, afraid.

“She’s really great Isak,” Even said. “They both are.”

Isak laughed. “Well Magnus is something else but,” his tone turned serious, “He’s been a really big help to us over the years.”

“How so?” Even asked. Isak took him by the hand to the living room where they collapsed on the couch, close together.

“His mom is bipolar. And one day when we were in high school, a few years after my dad walked out, I made some terribly offhand comment about how my life was better without mentally ill people in it. And Magnus reamed into me. He cussed me out and told me how selfish I was being which, I definitely was, but at the time I didn’t see it,” he said. “I thought I was doing what was best for myself.”

He looked at Even, who did his best to cover up his shallow breaths.

“Because my mom,” Isak continued. “She can be really intense. Especially around the holidays. I mean, you saw tonight. She’s really religious. And for a long time she would send me these erratic texts with Bible verses, most of them about how homosexuality was a sin. And I felt sick because of it. I hated myself for not being what she wanted, and I hated her for thinking some religion was more important than me. So when I moved out and cut ties, I thought that was the best move for everyone,” Isak paused. “But after not talking to Magnus for a few weeks, I realized how right he was. I mean, he’s not the type to get angry. He’s a total goofball all the time, and he takes everything in stride. But having him get so worked up about that made me realize that I was being selfish. And that I was afraid of turning into my dad. But by running away, that’s exactly what I was doing.”

Isak took a deep breath, “So I reconnected with my mom, and in doing so I realized I wanted to figure out why this was happening to her, and why it happened to so many other people. So I went to UiO and started studying neuropsychology. And Magnus did the same. So we’ve gotten a lot closer over the years, and we’ve taken to helping each other out when our mom’s get bad. Because it’s heavy. It’s really fucking heavy. And with us both finishing school and working all the time, it’s nice to have someone else there when it’s bad. And I mean, we hang out with each other when things are good too, of course. He’s one of my best friends in the world. It’s...a fucked up little family we’ve got. But it works for us.”

He stopped and put his face in his hands, “I’m sorry. That was information overload again.”

Even reached out and played with the curls around Isak’s ear. “Why didn’t you tell me all that before?”

Isak scoffed, “This shit’s not exactly easy to deal with, Even. I’ve never introduced someone I’m...I’ve never introduced anyone to my mom. Because I’m afraid of how they’re going to handle it. How she’s going to handle them. It’s hard navigating the chaos with just the two of us. Who knows how someone else is going to affect us.”

Isak looked up at him, eyes shining. “I mean, look at you Ev,” he said. He traced Even’s features with his thumb, taking care to tug gently at his lip like he did the first night they met. “You’re young and carefree and beautiful and here I am, with a fucked up past, just trying to be happy. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin your time here. The last few days have been a dream and it felt so good to pretend that I didn’t have all this other shit going on,” he sniffled, and swiped at his eyes. Even’s thumb stroked soothing circles on his knee as Isak ran a hand through Even’s hair, resting it at the hollow of his throat. He continued, quieter than before, “I know it’s selfish, but I mean, what’s the point of telling all this to someone I realistically might never see again?”

Even swallowed tightly before crashing their lips together. He knew this should be the moment he tells Isak about his bipolar, now that Isak confessed to much to him. He knew that kissing Isak now wasn’t going to solve anything. But the words never see again rang even louder than the blood pounding in his ears.

He pushed Isak backward, and his hands tangled in his hair. “We’ll see each other again,” he whispered between kisses. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Isak pulled back, and he stared at Even with such vulnerability, such longing, such hope, that he looked as far gone as Even felt. “Will you stay here tonight?” He asked, quietly, as if saying it too loud would curse the answer.

As if Even could say anything but a breathless, “Yes,” as he crashed their lips together one more time.

That night, they just slept, wrapped in each other’s arms with a tenderness neither of them imagined they would find.

* * *

“Knock, knock,” Jonas said, striding into Harold’s office. It was strange how quickly that became a custom for him. After only a week of knowing him, Jonas had become a regular in the house, spending his days picking Harold’s brain, going on rants about the state of the world, and helping Sylvia with lunch.

“Jonas my boy,” Harold said with a smile, “What’s the story?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Jonas began.

“That’s never a good thing,” Harold teased.

Jonas laughed and raised his eyebrows, “You’re not wrong about that. But I’ve been doing some thinking about what you said the other night at dinner. About how Theo was your reason for everything. And I thought that was incredible. You’re really really lucky to have had that. And then I see you and Sylvia together and you just have this undeniable chemistry. And I just can’t wrap my brain around it.”

“What’s not to get? I’m a bisexual man who has had the privilege to have two great loves in his life.”

“That’s exactly it though! You’ve had two!” Jonas exclaims, leaning back in his seat. “I spent my whole life believing that you get one great love in your life. That everyone has this perfect match. And I see you and Sylvia and I think ‘Yes! That’s it! That’s what it’s supposed to look like!’ But then I hear you talk about Theo and I see the work that was inspired by him and I think ‘No one could possibly love anyone more than that.’ So I guess what I’m asking is, how do you do it?”

“How do you love twice?”

“Yeah.”

“Well first of all, the whole ‘only one great love’ is a bunch of Hollywood bullshit made to sell tickets. Second, I loved Theo more than I thought I could love another person. He was it for me. Absolutely everything. But just because we had that doesn’t meant it was healthy. Toward the end it got especially bad, and it’s almost better that he died. Or else we would have destroyed each other. He was the best man I knew, but life got in the way.”

“Do you think that if he hadn’t died, you would have been able to move on from him?”

“Are you asking about me here, or yourself?” Harold asked.

“Both?” Jonas said, chagrined.

“I don’t know if I could have,” Harold said honestly. “But I was with him for more than half my life at that point. And I don’t think I would have chosen to leave his side, no matter how hard it got. But life intervened and made the choice for me. You have to remember that people are like snowflakes. Not in the overly-sensitive-liberal type of way that the GOP means when they talk about it. But in the actual scientific way. Everybody is different, so that means you have to love them differently. You do with your friends right? Or your family?” Jonas nodded. “You have to do that with romantic love too. And you have to be willing to let yourself.”

“Was it hard? Learning to love Sylvia?”

“No,” he said matter-of-factly, “Loving her came very easily. We met in a support group for people who had lost their partners. She and I got on very well, and she quickly became one of my best friends. Navigating to a romantic relationship was terrifying, because I wasn’t sure she felt the same. But I had to take the risk anyway. And it was worth it. She’s still my best friend, and the best wife I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only wife you’ve ever had, you old bat,” Sylvia said coming into the room. “Lunch is ready if either of you boys are interested.”

“Starved,” Harold said, kissing his wife on the lips, “Thank you dear.”

“Thanks Sylvia,” Jonas said.

“We’re having a birthday party for Harold next week,” Sylvia said when they sat down to eat. “85. You and Mikael should come.”

“She’s throwing me a party, can you believe it? She’s known for 25 years how much I hate fuss and still, she insists.”

“It’s because you secretly love it,” She sassed. “You oughta stop denying it at this point. You’re too old for these games.”

Harold rolled his eyes and Jonas laughed. “When is it?” he asked.

“The 27th. Will you still be in town?”

“You bet,” he said. “And I’m not going to miss it for the world.”

\---

Jonas’s phone buzzed in his pocket the second he opened the door, and he answered without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Jonas,” an unfamiliar voice rang through the speaker. “It’s Even!”

“Oh my god, so you actually are a real person then and not just some ruse.”

Even laughed, “I am very real yes. Hey listen, I called because I wanted to check and make sure everything’s been good over there? I know I didn’t give you a lot of prep before you came.”

Jonas chuckled, “Yeah you didn’t tell me you live in a fucking mansion. But no, everything’s been great. Mikael’s been really helpful.”

“Yeah, he mentioned you’d met each other.”

“Yeah he sort of broke into the house the first day thinking that it was empty.”

Even laughed again, “I heard about that. I hope he didn’t scare you too much.”

“Nah it’s good.”

“Hey listen, while I have you, I was wondering where your axe is. I blew through a lot of the wood you had chopped, and I wanted to make sure you had enough when you came home.”

“Oh jeez. No offense, but do you think you can handle that?”

“It’s worth a shot right?”

Jonas laughed, “Just as long as you don’t chop a toe off. It’s in the coat closet though. Maybe you should give my friend Isak a call and have him help you. I can give you his number if you want.”

“Um...yeah I have it already, actually,” Even said. “He sort of...showed up drunk the first night. And we’ve hung out a few times since. He’s...he’s really cool. But yeah, maybe I should give him a call. If he’s done it before.”

“Yeah yeah. He has,” Jonas said as his phone buzzed again. “Speak of the devil. Isak’s actually calling me right now.”

“I’ll let you go then. It was nice finally talking to you Jonas! Tell Isak I say hi.”

Oh my god, Jonas thought as he clicked over to Isak’s call.

“You fucked Even didn’t you?” Jonas said immediately upon answering.

“How did you--I mean what are you--Is that any way to greet your best friend after abandoning them for the holidays?” Isak spluttered in response.

“So you did! Oh my god, Isak.”

“What? It was consensual!”

“Well that’s good, but you’re still an embarrassment.”

Isak scoffed, “How do you know that anyway?”

“I just got off the phone with Even and he said you showed up drunk to the house, and then he told me to tell you that he said hi,” Jonas said.

“He did? What is he doing? Did he sound okay?”

“Isak I can literally hear the smile in your voice.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you. I’m calling you because I have an actual problem with that,” Isak said getting serious.

“What do you mean?”

Isak sighed, “I think I like him.”

“I mean, that’s good. Since you had sex with him.”

“No, Jonas,” Isak said exasperated. “I think I actually like him.”

“Like...you want to date him?”

“I would! If he lived here!” Isak said. “But he doesn’t.”

“So...what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Isak whined, “That’s why I called you. He’s really great and beautiful and kind and…”

“And?” Jonas prompted.

“He met my mom,” Isak said quietly.

“He did what?!”

“Oh shit. Hang on a sec, work is calling me.”

“Isak! You can’t just--” but it was too late. Isak had switched the call and Jonas was left yelling at no one. He ran a hand through his hair and it stood straight up. How in the hell was Jonas supposed to help with this?

“Sorry Jonas, I’ve got to go to work,” Isak said quickly as he came back on the line. “It’s an emergency.”

“This conversation isn’t over!” Jonas said. “Call me as soon as you are out of work!”

“Yeah yeah I will,” Isak said. “I’ve got to go now. Bye!”

Jonas shook his head trying to wrap his mind around what his best friend just told him. The fondness in his voice was unlike anything he had heard before. And he met his mom? What the fuck was Jonas supposed to do with that information?

“Hello?” he practically yelled into the phone when it rang next.

“It’s Mikael. Am I in trouble?”

“Oh my god,” Jonas said laughing. “No you’re fine it’s just...It’s a long story. What’s up?”

“Nothing really,” he said. “Just wondered what you were up to on this fine Christmas Eve.”

“Honestly I haven’t even thought about it. Might just take it easy tonight, as lame as that sounds.”

“Would you like some company?” Mikael asked.

“I’d love some,” he said, and Jonas didn’t even try ignore the warmth that spread through his chest.

\---

“Okay, I couldn’t decipher what kind of person you were, and I didn’t really feel like coming all the way back here to ask, so I made one hot chocolate with a lot of whipped cream, and one with only a little,” Mikael said, holding both out to Jonas. He took the smaller one and Mikael’s face flooded with relief. “I was really hoping you’d let me have more whipped cream,” he said.

“Well maybe now I changed my mind,” Jonas said reaching for Mikael’s mug.

“No,” he said dodging Jonas’s hand. “You made your decision, now you have to live with it.”

“Fine,” Jonas grumbled, flopping back on the couch. “Here,” he said, hitting Mikael’s arm with the remote. “You know how to work this thing better than I do.”

“What are we going to watch?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Jonas said. They were in Even’s home theatre and Mikael was, according to him, going to give Jonas a proper introduction to film. “You’re the expert here. That means you have to pick.”

Mikael gave a dramatic sigh as he pushed off the couch to peruse Even’s extensive movie collection, and Jonas couldn’t suppress the giggle that escaped him.

“Okay okay, what have we got,” Mikael muttered to himself, running a hand over the spines of the films. “Aha!” he said, dramatically flourishing a movie in front of him. [“Bum badum bummm, bum badum, bum badum bummm, bum badum bum bum bum.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bTpp8PQSog)

“What are you doing?” Jonas asked.

“I’m singing the score,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s iconic.”

Jonas laughed, “True. But I’ve already seen Indiana Jones. Next!”

Mikael skimmed the movies again, and gasped, clutching one to his chest. [“Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feeeeel you. That is how I know you go ooonnnn,”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNyKDI9pn0Q) he sang as slowly turned to face Jonas. “Titanic? Kate and Leo? Queen Céline Dion coming in with that incredible song?”

Jonas smirked, “Why am I not surprised in the slightest that you love Titanic?”

“Because it’s a masterpiece that gets made fun of more than it deserves.” Jonas raised his eyebrows and in response, Mikael threw his arms wide and continued to sing, “YOUUU’RE HEEEEEEERE THERE’S NOOOOOTHING I FEAR.”

“Okay, okay,” Jonas said laughing. “No dissing Titanic or you’ll keep singing at me. Got it. But we’re not watching it.”

“Fine!” Mikael sighed turning back to the shelves. “Ooh this is a good one. [Ba dum. Ba dum.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvCI-gNK_y4) Two notes, that’s all you need. And you’ve got a villain,” he spit out the last words as he flipped the DVD box around. “It’s a classic.”

[“Bada dum dada bum, bada dum dada dum, Bada dum dada bum, bada ba.” ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NvryolGa19A)He hummed softly. “Have you seen this one? Amélie?” Jonas shook his head. “It’s one of my favorite scores of all time. Promise me you’ll watch it sometime.”

“Promise,” Jonas said, and Mikael slid it onto the coffee table. He turned back to the shelves for just a moment before pulling one out and turning around, holding it behind it’s back. “Okay, I’ve got it. If you haven’t seen this before then you’re completely uncultured.”

He flipped it around. “The Sound of Music?” Jonas asked.

“Yes! [‘High on a hill was a lonely goatherd, Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo’?”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CaD9Ozdthg8) Mikael danced and sang. Jonas stared at him blankly. “Nothing? You’ve never seen it?” He shook his head. “Okay then, we’re doing this. Prepare to be cultured.”

Mikael flung himself onto the couch next to Jonas, and they watch Maria skip her way across the Austrian countryside. They watched the children sing about their favorite things and jaunt around Salzburg in clothes made of curtains, all the while Mikael was singing along. Sometimes he was dramatic, other times softly under his breath.

They were sitting close to each other on the couch, not touching, but Jonas could feel Mikael’s warmth. He could hardly concentrate on the film because he was so focused on the space between them. It seemed all at once like too much space, and not enough, and frankly Jonas didn’t know what to do with that sensation. So he tried to watch the movie, tried to pay attention to something other than Mikael. But Jonas couldn’t. He was mesmerized by Mikael’s hands as they moved along with the music, plucking out notes on an imaginary piano.

Jonas yawned, as Maria parted the villa and intermission sounded, saying, “I forgot how long this movie was.

Mikael looked at him sharply, “I thought you said you’ve never seen it.”

“Oops,” Jonas said, unapologetically and Mikael shoved him.

“Okay then, since you’ve already seen it, I suppose there’s no harm in talking,” Mikael said.

“No, I suppose there’s not,” Jonas said turning to look at him.

Mikael poked his leg. “You never really told me why you’re here.”

“I’m here on holiday,” Jonas shrugged and Mikael rolled his eyes.

“I mean the real reason,” Mikael said. “No one flies halfway around the world on a whim at Christmas time. What’s the deal?”

“I uh...I’m trying to get over someone. My ex-girlfriend,” Jonas looked up from his twisting hands to gauge Mikael’s reaction. He was just met with warm eyes that encouraged him to keep talking. “We broke up two years ago and I’ve never stopped being in love with her. We’ve been good friends--best friends--since then, too. And I thought that maybe there was the possibility that we could get back together. But then we were at a Christmas party and I saw her kissing our friend Noora. And, well, it turns out they’ve been secretly dating for months. I just couldn’t stay there anymore. I mean, she’s everywhere I go. Granted, I made that happen. I put her everywhere in my life. But that was because I had hope. And now that there’s not even a possibility, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You really don’t think there’s any possibility at all?” Mikael asked quietly.

Jonas shook his head. “Maybe. Part of me still hopes so. Part of me just wants to move on.”

“Has being here helped? Moving on?”

“It has, yeah,” Jonas smiled, slow and lazy. “It’s been really great to go where I don’t know anyone. I would have been really lonely if I hadn’t met you or Harold, though.”

“Really?” Mikael grinned, “You must be pretty starved for company then with the likes of us.”

“Did you not hear what I was saying? About being in love with my ex and her now falling in love with someone else? Of course I’m starved for company!” Jonas said shoving Mikael’s shoulder.

The older boy laughed, but it was sad. “At least you’ve had that though.”

“Had what? Heartbreak?”

“Love,” Mikael said. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get that.”

“No?”

Mikael shook his head. “At least not the way most people have it. I’ve never...wanted anyone like that. I think I could, eventually, maybe. I think I have the capacity to. I’m just not sure it’s going to happen.”

“Is that why you said that at dinner? That you just haven’t found the right person yet?”

Mikael nodded.

“Do you think you might be ace?” Jonas asked, his voice blunt.

“Something like that. I’ve done a lot of research on it, and I know it can be really fluid, so I’m not sure how exactly to define it.”

“You don’t have to define it you know,” Jonas said poking him.

Mikael laughed, “I know that. It just makes it easier with a definition. Easier to explain it to other people. But I’m not really sure how to explain it to myself.”

They were quiet for a minute, thinking about what just passed between them, until Mikael hesitantly spoke up again, “Do you...do you identify as anything?”

“I don’t know,” Jonas said, with an amused laugh. “I mean for most of my life I thought I was straight, and that was just it. But then Isak came out and I started reading more about sexuality and I don’t know if it’s that I’ve changed, or realized, or what exactly, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility of being...not-completely-straight. I just haven’t really had that experience yet,” Jonas looked up at Mikael whose eyes were filled with understanding. He laughed, “I’ve never actually told anyone that before.”

“No?” Mikael asked. Jonas shook his head. “Well thanks for trusting me with that.”

“You’re easy to trust,” Jonas shrugged. “And anyway, I think sexuality and all that can be really fluid. Maybe it doesn’t have to be one or the other or both or anything really. Maybe it does just depend on the person you meet.”

“You really think so?” Mikael asked.

Jonas looked at Mikael who stared at him softly, eyes searching in the low light of the room. His hair framed his face, and Jonas wondered again how it would feel in his hands.

“I’m starting to.”

\---

The next day Harold invited them both to spend Christmas day with he and Sylvia, and they happily agreed. Mikael bounded into the house like he lived there, passing through Harold’s office, quickly giving him a kiss on the cheek before making his way to the kitchen to help with dinner.

“Sylvia,” they heard Mikael’s exasperated voice from the kitchen after a few minutes. “I can’t believe you! You invite a certified musician over for Christmas dinner and you play a Christmas CD? Please, can I play you something much better than this. Something live!”

“By all means,” she sassed.

Jonas laughed and rolled his eyes at Harold who smirked.

“He’s something else isn’t he?” he asked.

“He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known,” Jonas said, fondly.

“You glad you met him?” Harold asked.

“Oh yeah,” Jonas said. “I almost can’t believe I didn’t know him before a week ago. He just fit so naturally in my life.”

Harold smiled knowingly, and they heard the quiet trills on the piano that indicated Mikael had started playing.

“That doesn’t sound like Christmas music!” Harold shouted at Mikael.

“That’s because it’s not!” Mikael shouted back, still playing.

“Well then what is it?”

“It’s your theme song, Harold. Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday!”

Harold laughed fondly, and Jonas asked Harold a question that’s been lying on his mind lately.

“Harold how did you…” he began, “How did you know?”

Before he could answer, Mikael shouted again from the next room, “Hey Jonas, come here! I want to show you something.”

Jonas turned and started to leave.

“Jonas,” Harold said as he was on the threshold of the room. Jonas turned and looked at him. His features had softened a bit and there was a compassionate smile playing on his lips. “It was like something clicked in me, and suddenly everything made sense.”

He nodded, and made his way into the living room, where Mikael was seated at an old grand piano. He patted the bench next to him and Jonas sat down. The bench was small, and their thighs pressed together to accommodate them both. Jonas’s whole body reacted to the warmth of Miakel next to him.

“It suits him,” Jonas said, “The theme song. It’s got his same sass.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Mikael smiled. “I uh, I wrote one for you too,” he said quieter. The melody changed from something bright and sparkly to something slightly more mellow, deeper. It was the kind of song you could get lost in. “If you were a melody, I think you’d sound like this,” Mikael said, voice low. “I used only the good notes.”

Jonas laughed, a little breathless. He doesn’t know who moved first, if either of them, but their legs were pressing closer together than they were when Jonas first sat down. He watched Mikael’s long fingers move deftly along the piano. Jonas’s eyes flitted up to Mikael’s face and found that he was already staring at him. He licked his lips and wondered if this was something he could do. If this was something he really wanted, or if he wanted it just because he was lonely.

“Supper’s ready,” Sylvia said from the doorway, and Jonas jumped back a bit. Mikael smiled softly at him, a little sad. Jonas watched him throughout dinner, watched the light burst out of him every time he laughed. The twinkle in his eye everytime he caught Jonas’s eye. Whatever this was, was something entirely new, and Jonas hoped desperately for an answer to come soon.

* * *

Isak and Even spent everyday together after that night at his mother’s house. Days that Isak worked, Even would spend wandering around Oslo, taking in the sights, getting acquainted with the city. Nights would be spent wrapped in a flurry of each other. Shuddering breaths and shivering spines, gentle caresses and soft spoken stories. They kissed like there was no end in sight, and Even slept better by Isak’s side than he had in a year.

He cooked for Isak, and he danced with him in the tiny kitchen. He showed Isak his favorite film, and Even silently rejoiced when he saw a few tears escape at Juliet’s death. They had sex with more tenderness and passion than Even thought he’d ever get in his life. And every time he looked into Isak’s green eyes he thought that maybe he could have the world.

Even showed Isak nearly every part of himself. All but that one secret.

It wasn’t that Even thought Isak would reject him, necessarily. It was more that Isak had enough on his plate already, and Even didn’t want to add to that burden. Their situation was complicated enough to begin with. Despite the intense feelings Even had for him, and hoped Isak had in return, he wasn’t sure how they could possibly make it work.

He knew it sounded crazy. Falling half in love with someone you’ve known for two weeks who lives halfway around the world. He knew in his mind that it wasn’t realistic. But every time he looked at Isak his heart seemed to pound against his chest screaming “YES. HE’S WORTH IT. WORTH ALL THE POTENTIAL PAIN AND HEARTBREAK.”

So Even gave his all the last few weeks, hoping that when this ended there would be some part of him left behind with Isak. Because he knew that never could he ever forget the boy with golden curls and a disarming smile and an undeniable sweetness. Even felt that there would be something about Isak that he would always search for in whoever else came after him.

Maybe it was dramatic to have such intense feelings after only a few days. Maybe it was so intense because they always had an end date lingering over them. But maybe, just maybe, this was something more than a simple holiday romance.

People write novels and poetry and songs about this kind of thing right? Movies are made of this exact sort of thing. And yes they’re usually fiction, but doesn’t inspiration come from real life? So who’s to say that just because it’s short-lived means it’s any less real than what he had with Sonja. Even’s felt more alive since meeting Isak than he has ever in his life, and he was a fool if he tried to deny it any longer.

But he was leaving tomorrow.

The thought alone pulled Even out of his thoughts and back to the suitcase laying in front of him. He wanted to risk it all for Isak, but he was leaving tomorrow and he still hadn’t told him about the biggest part of him.

He threw the last pair of socks he was holding haphazardly into the bag before zipping it and putting it on the floor. A knock on the door echoed through the cabin and Even made it to the door in only three long strides.

He was greeted by a cold kiss that warmed him from the inside. Isak’s freezing hands cupped his cheeks, and his cold nose and lips were a shock against Even’s flushed skin.

“Hi,” Isak said breathlessly when he pulled back. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes sparkled in a way that lit a fire inside Even.

In lieu of a greeting, Even pulled Isak to him and put every thought, hope, and fear he’s had over the last two weeks into the kiss.

Isak kissed back with equal force and they stumbled through the doorway. His hands knotted in Even’s hair as Even crowded him against the wall, licking into his warm mouth. Isak unzipped Even’s hoodie and threw it on the ground while Even worked to get him out of his jacket. He pulled back, pushing the coat off Isak’s shoulders and tugging the hat off his head, and he nearly choked at the sight. Isak stood there, eyes hooded, face flushed, hair erratically sticking up, and Even crashed their lips together again, wanting so desperately for Isak to be his.

Isak tugged at his hips, pulling him closer, backing him up carefully into the bedroom. Hands grabbed at belt buckles, hips bumped into tables as they stumbled blindly, not taking their lips off each other. Even smiled into the kiss as Isak knotted their fingers together, tugging them back onto the bed. He kissed down Isak’s neck, pushed up his t-shirt and pressed his lips into the soft skin there, working his way back up Isak’s torso as he pulled the shirt off.

He paused then, straddling Isak, and was overwhelmed by the emotion running through him. This might be the last time they ever do this. And Isak looked so earth shatteringly beautiful underneath him, all soft skin and warm eyes, that he almost couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. He ran a hand through Isak’s curls and settled his large hand at the base of his neck, stroking his thumb across his pink cheeks. Isak’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, and his eyebrows tightened together in way that Even knew meant he was feeling the same way.

He licked his lips and pressed a soft kiss into the hollow of Isak’s throat, relishing in the gasp that escaped his lips. He trailed kisses over his collarbone, down his arms, wetly kissed the tips of his fingers before making his way back to neck. Isak watched him the whole time, eyes filled with emotion, and Even almost couldn’t bear it. He kissed Isak one more time, eyes shut tight to stop the overflow of emotions.

That night they kissed like they were facing the end of the world and made love to each other like it was the only thing that was going to keep them alive.

\---

“Do you think there’s a universe out there where this could work somehow?” Isak’s voice broke the quiet sanctuary they had created in the bedroom. His face was half-buried in the pillow, and Even was gently playing with the curls around his ear. They’d hardly said a word to each other all night. Even was too afraid of their waning time together, and he wanted to just enjoy Isak’s presence, not ruin it with talk of what’s to come.

“I think there are infinite,” he whispered.

“In infinite time?” Isak asked.

“You know, the only way to have something for infinite time is by losing it,” Even said, ghosting his hands all over Isak’s body.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Isak said reaching out and stroking his lip.

“It’s true.” He couldn’t fight it any longer, the inexplicable sadness that enveloped him. He’s gotten good at dealing with the deep, darkness that never fully seemed to leave him. But something about this hurt worse than ever. It felt natural to break up with Sonja. But leaving Isak somehow became the hardest thing he had to do.

Maybe it was better this way. They could leave now before they had a chance to destroy each other.

“But what if it’s not true,” Isak said sitting up. “What if we don’t have to lose each other. I mean, long distance relationships can work right?”

“Really?” Even asked, lifting his eyebrows. “I can’t even make one work when I live in the same house.”

“Well then this could be good,” Isak said, and Even had to laugh at his tenacity. “Come on, you’ve got to come to Europe for work right?”

“Not really. But I can travel fairly easily,” Even admitted. Isak’s eyes glimmered with hope, and Even couldn’t help but kiss him. “So let’s say we do commit to this somehow. We meet up where we can, and enjoy our time together.”

“Yes,” Isak said. “It’s definitely possible.”

“But then we hit a wall,” Even said. “Maybe I can’t be away from work so often, and you need to focus on school or your mom starts needing you at home more or something. So then we get really tense and we start fighting because we don’t know what else to do. And then what? One long painful phone call where we call it quits? I mean that would be it. It’s not like we would ever risk bumping into each other. And then what do we have? Two miserable people feeling completely heartbroken and hurt.”

Isak sighed. Even knew he was right, and he hated that this was the likely scenario of how their relationship would play out if they extended it beyond the holiday.

“Or,” he continued.

Isak’s face flushed with relief. “Thank you,” he said kissing Even swiftly.

“Or maybe we just admit that what we had these past two weeks has been perfect. And that maybe trying to figure out a solution beyond this is just going to break us. And maybe it feels good to imagine how things could work. But maybe the fact that I’m leaving in 10 hours makes this way more exciting than it might actually be. Maybe it’s just feels so good because it’s ending.”

He looked up from his twisting hands into Isak’s kind face.

“I have another scenario for you,” he said with a tentative laugh. “I’m in love with you.”

Even’s eyes fluttered in surprise, “What?”

“I’m sorry for the blunt delivery,” he continued, eyes bright. “But as problematic as this thing is between us, I’m in love with you. And I’m not feeling like this just because you’re leaving or just because it feels good to feel like this. But the fact of the matter is that I’m in love with you--or was until you just went off like that. I can’t figure out any logic of it, but I just know that I do. I know that there’s a lot of baggage with me and my mom and the fact that I live halfway across the globe but I love you. I want you and I want to try this. God, I can’t believe how many times I just said it.”

“I wasn’t expecting I love you,” he said. Even’s mind was reeling. Isak couldn’t love him. He only knew part of Even. Here he was, this beautiful, golden boy saying that he was complicated, that he came with baggage. But he had no idea the kind of baggage Even carried with him, the kind of baggage Even didn’t want to burden him with.

Here he was, open and vulnerable, face slowly crumbling under the weight of all the words Even couldn’t say.

“Isak there’s something I need to tell you,” Even said. He twisted his fingers in his together, knotting them together as he tried to make sense of the swirling thoughts in his head. He doesn’t know how long he sat there for, gathering the courage to speak. But soon Isak’s hand stretched across the planes of Even’s, thumbs caressing the back of his hand, soothing him. He took a deep breath, still staring down at their intertwined hands. “I’m bipolar.”

Isak’s hand stilled on his and he slowly looked up to see his reaction. The ghost of a smile played at his lips and his eyes shone with something like relief. “Is that all?” he asked.

“Is that all?” Even repeated.

Isak laughed, “Yeah. I thought you were going to tell me you were a murder or that you were actually married and the whole Sonja thing was a lie to get me into bed. I’m kind of relieved.”

“Relieved?” Even asked.

“Yeah,” Isak kissed him. “I can handle bipolar.”

Even was silent, taking in Isak’s reaction. He was expecting discomfort, rage maybe, even just a quiet goodbye. He never, ever in his life expected relief.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Isak asked when Even didn’t speak.

“I didn’t want to...burden you,” he said. “After you shared everything about your mom I realized you had so much on your plate. It didn’t feel right to tell you that when I was leaving so soon. I thought it would be better for both of us, if I could just leave and you never had to know that part of me. You said so yourself, this shit is heavy. I couldn’t ask you to carry that for me when there was no knowing how this would end. I guess I just hoped that once I left, you would have a better image of me.”

“But that wouldn’t have been you,” Isak whispered, thumbs stroking Even’s features.

“Maybe it was some parallel universe version of me,” Even said with a half-hearted laugh.

“That doesn’t matter,” Isak said, brushing Even’s hair back from his face, left thumb stroking his collarbone. “I don’t want a parallel universe version of you. I want this version. The one that’s right in front of me looking absolutely devastating.”

Even laughed, shy and Isak put their foreheads together. “You being bipolar doesn’t change anything. I’m still in love with you. Now I’ll just get to love you in a different way. If you’ll let me.” he pulled back and held Even’s hands. “You should know that I’m not expecting you to say it back. I know you promised you weren’t going to fall in love with me but that doesn’t--”

“Shhh,” Even said, putting a finger against Isak’s soft lips. “I have been. I am. I do. I...I love you.”

“You do?” Isak asked, looking so innocent.

Even nodded. “I’m just not quite sure what to do about it.”

Isak’s eyes turned dark, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “I think I’ve got some idea,” he murmured, slotting their lips together and gently pushing Even back onto the bed.


	5. Chapter 5

“Today’s the big day,” Mikael said eagerly after he ordered. They were meeting up for breakfast, which had become a semi-regular thing for them over the past week. As regular as something could be after becoming friends only two weeks before. “Can you believe Harold is 85?”

“Can you believe that the most exciting thing I’ll have done all vacation is the birthday party of an 85 year old man?” Jonas laughed. “I mean look at us. How many people in their twenties spend so much time with someone that old.”

“Hey Harold is the best,” Mikael said defensively. “He’s the cheekiest person I know.”

“I don’t know,” Jonas said. “You might have him beat by that one.”

Mikael narrowed his eyes and playfully kicked Jonas under the table. He laughed, full bodied as their food arrived.

“It’s been good though, yeah?” Mikael asked around a mouthful of food. “Your holiday?”

“Oh yeah,” Jonas grinned. “Best one I’ve ever had.”

“Good,” Mikael said. His smile was soft and there was a slight blush on his cheeks. Jonas thrilled at the thought that maybe it was because of him. Mikael’s face lit up quickly though, and he pointed out the window. “Oh my god, check out this amazing dog.”

Jonas looked but didn’t see anything. He turned back to Mikel who sat there with a guilty smile on his face.

“There was no dog,” Jonas said.

Mikael shrugged, “Maybe you missed him.”

“You ate some of my food didn’t you?”

“What? Psht. No, I would never do something like that,” Mikael laughed, not trying in the slightest to be convincing.

“Fine then that means I get to take some of yours,” Jonas said reaching across the table to Mikael’s plate.

“No, go eat your own,” Mikael whined trying to block Jonas’s fork with his own. They fought for a minute, until Jonas successfully swiped a potato and considered it a victory.

They passed the rest of breakfast in much the same way, and Jonas was starting to get sad that he was leaving in just a few days. He loved spending time with Mikael. Their conversation flowed very naturally from one subject to the next, seamlessly transitioning from serious to lighthearted.

Jonas loved his friends back home. They were some of the best people he’s ever known. But there was something about Mikael that made everything come easier. The older guy always seemed to be able to pull a laugh out of him with his carefree energy, and Jonas is sure he has laughed more on vacation than he has in months. They could debate serious subjects, and Mikael would always have some quip to remind Jonas that not everything in life needed to be taken so seriously. But at the same time, Jonas always felt like he was listened to, and that Mikael respected his opinions.

He didn’t exactly know how to describe it, but it felt like there was part of him that was meant to find friendship with Mikael. He doesn’t think it would have happened if he hadn’t been spontaneous and flown to L.A. But since that first day when he saw Mikael making a sandwich in his kitchen, he’s been happy to have done something so completely impulsive and unlike anything he’s done before.

They were walking out of the restaurant, Mikael telling some embarrassing story from when he was younger, gesturing wildly with his hands, when Jonas’s cell phone rang.

“It’s Eva,” Jonas said, looking at Mikael with wide eyes. His hands dropped to his sides and he stopped talking, nodding at Jonas to pick up the phone.

“Halla,” he said.

“Jonas Vasquez!” he heard a loud squeal come through the other line. “You will never guess where I am right now.”

“Uh, Oslo?” he asked.

“I’m in L.A.!” She shouted.

Jonas nearly choked and he covered it up with a cough, a wide grin splitting his face as he looked excitedly at Mikael.

“Seriously?” He sputtered out, “Why?”

“For work! It was really last minute, and I was going to tell you and then before I realized it I was on the plane here. Anyway, can we get lunch or dinner or drinks or something? I really want to see you! You’ve done a terrible job of keeping me informed about what you’ve been up to, and I need to pick your brain.”

Jonas laughed, “Okay yeah. Text me your address and I’ll come pick you up. We’ll figure something out.”

“Yay!” she squealed one more time. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Sorry about that,” he said hanging up the phone and turning to Mikael. He laughed, a bit in shock, “She’s in town and wants to meet up.”

“Oh,” Mikael said, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great.”

“You don’t mind?” Jonas asked. “I know we had plans to hang out before the party, but--”

“No no, I get it. It’s Eva. I mean she’s...she’s it for you,” He said, scuffing his shoe on the ground. “Anyway I have some work that I should try to get done before the party anyway.”

“Right,” Jonas knitted his eyebrows together. “Yeah. But hey, I’ll still see you at the party. I’m not gonna miss that.”

“Yeah yeah,” Mikael said, “Go have fun with your girl. Take your time. I’ll see you when I see you.”

He turned abruptly with a wave and walked away leaving Jonas standing there in the middle of the sidewalk. He wondered briefly what could have changed so drastically between breakfast and now, but he didn’t linger on the thought because _Eva was here._

Eva was in L.A. Yes, it was for work, but maybe that also meant something good for him. Maybe the thing with Noora was brief and she was ready to come back to him. It was a stretch, and Jonas knew it. But he couldn’t stop the thought from slipping in and making him smile.

\---

“Fy faen Jonas,” Eva said as they pulled up to the house after lunch, “ _This_ is where you’ve been staying?”

Jonas laughed, a bit chagrined. “Yeah. Wait until you see inside.”

“You mean it gets better?” she gaped, unbuckling herself.

Jonas just laughed and showed her the inside. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face the whole time he gave her a tour. Her eyes practically bugged out of her head and he mouth got exponentially larger with every room they went in.

“So,” Jonas said once they got to the kitchen, “What do you think?”

She let out a disbelieving laugh and stretched her arms over the expanse of the countertop, as if testing whether it was real or fake.

“I can’t believe you’re staying here,” she said.

“I know.”

“This goes against everything you believe in.”

“I _know_.”

“But you’re not paying for any of it?”

“Nope. It’s a home exchange, so he’s in my house free of charge, and I’m here.”

“Oh my _god_.”

“I know,” he said again. He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Want something to drink.”

Eva smirked, “You know me so well.”

Jonas flushed a bit. It felt like old times, the same ever-loving Eva, easy with her affection and touches. When he first picked her up, she flung her arms around him in a huge, warm embrace. Throughout lunch, she grabbed his arm, especially when he made her laugh. It thrilled him to see her react so physically to his presence and what he said.

She still marveled at everything in the house, head thrown back taking in the tall ceilings. Jonas laughed as he handed her a glass of wine and tugged her by the hand to the living room. They settled on the couch and Eva looked as relaxed as Jonas felt. She let out a soft groan at the comfort of it all, and Jonas smiled. She looked beautiful, hair thrown wildly among the pillows, like she always belonged there.

“So how long are you here?” he asked.

“Until the second. We have a big meeting with some ad executives out here. I don’t know why they picked me, but when they offered it I certainly wasn’t going to turn it down,” she said. She poked him in the side. “Especially since I knew you were here.”

“Yeah, but I’ll be flying back on the 30th.”

“Still,” she said turning to him. “Better than nothing.”

He smiled softly at her. “How’s uh, Noora doing?”

She beamed, “She’s good! I’m sad she couldn’t come with. But her newspaper doesn’t have a big staff right now with the holidays, so she couldn’t get time off. But it’s okay because I have you!”

“Yeah,” he said taking a sip of his wine. “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

Eva’s face crumpled into chagrin, “It wasn’t just you, you know. We didn’t know how to tell anyone. It’s not easy, dating someone in the friend group. You never know how anyone will react. And if it ends up going south it could wreck things. I mean look at what happened to us.”

“What do you mean what happened to us? We’re best friends,” Jonas said.

“Yeah now,” she said. “But when we first broke up it was really difficult. I felt like I couldn’t be around any of your friends. And it was fine I guess because I wasn’t really that close with any of them but Isak. But it was still hard. I guess Noora and I just...wanted to be sure about each other before it happened.”

“You’re sure about her? Like she’s the one for you?”

“Do you really think there’s only one person for everyone, Jonas?” She looked at him quizzically, trying to figure out his meaning.

He looked down at the wine glass in his hands and swirled the contents inside, as if they would somehow give him the right words to say. “I did. For a long time I thought that.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m not so sure about anything,” he admitted.

She stared at him for a minute and he shrunk under her gaze. “I’m not so sure that’s true,” she said finally.

He raised his eyebrows at her sure tone, “Care to enlighten me?”

“You’re different,” she shrugged. “I don’t know what it is exactly, but you seem more sure of yourself. Maybe it’s just this unbelievably luxe house, but you seem happier than I’ve seen you in years.”

“I do?” He asked. She nodded. His mind raced, trying to figure out how she could notice this, but he could fail to realize it about himself. It’s true that this vacation gave him more than he expected. He never expected to meet Harold, and come to like him so much. The conversations they’ve had have been some of the best Jonas has had with anyone, and he’s learned so much. He knows he’s grown into a different person just from his relationship with Harold, but he didn’t think it would be so obvious.

His thoughts drifted to Mikael and his easy nature. He always felt so relaxed around him. Mikael was unapologetically himself all the time, and it was contagious. Jonas felt completely free to be himself around Mikael, in whatever capacity that might mean. He knew that Mikael wouldn’t judge him for what he said, and even if they disagreed, they could talk until one of them saw the other’s point of view. It was so easy to talk to him and just be around him that sometimes it was hard to believe they’ve only known each other for two weeks. Jonas could admit that meeting Mikael is without a doubt the best thing he’s done on vacation. Maybe even one of the best things in his entire life.

“You okay?” Eva’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he said shaking his head. “Sorry I got lost in my thoughts a bit.”

“What were you thinking about?” she cocked her head.

“I was thinking about my friend Mikael actually,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“What about him?”

“Just that,” he laughed, “It’s so strange because I’ve only known him a few weeks. Twelve days really. And...and he’s honestly become one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He’s one of the weirdest, funniest people I’ve ever known. And he’s so genuine all the time and so excited about every aspect of life and...and I’m honestly forgetting what my life looked like before he was in it.”

He looked at Eva and saw his own disbelief in her eyes.

“Eva, I’m sorry. It was really great seeing you but,” he said. “I’ve gotta go.”

\---

_Please still be here, please still be here,_ Jonas thought to himself as he rushed up the steps to Mikael’s house. He knocked on the door, bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers waiting for a response.

He peered through the glass at the side of the door, when no one answered, trying to see movement inside.

Nothing.

“Fuck,” Jonas said, rushing back to the car.

\---

He practically flew threw Harold’s front door when he arrived. The house was empty. Everyone was in the garden for the party. He only peeked out the kitchen windows, but he saw no sign of Mikael.

He knows he could probably ask. Knows he probably should ask. But that would bring up a lot more attention and questions to something he hadn’t logically thought out himself.

Jonas searched every room in the house, ending in the living room where he was greeted by a lonely grand piano. He sat down hard on the bench and put his head in his hands, sighing. He was on the verge of giving up hope when he heard a quiet, “Hey,” from the doorway.

He looked up and his heart flew to his throat. Mikael stood before him, half in shadow of the waning daylight. His shirt collar was unbuttoned, suit jacket hanging open, and his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his dress pants. He looked beautiful.

“Mikael,” He said standing up.

“You look like Hell,” he said. His features were soft and full of concern, and Jonas almost couldn’t stand it. “Are you okay? How did everything go with Eva?”

“Everything’s fine,” he said taking a tentative step closer. He wrung his hands together, not knowing exactly how to say all the thoughts that spun around his head. “Listen I’m sorry I ditched you for her earlier.”

Mikael shuffled on his feet, “It’s fine. I told you I understand.”

“That’s just the thing though. I’m not sure you do,” Jonas said. Mikael’s eyebrows raised in a silent question, and Jonas pushed on. “Because you see. I don’t even like Eva like that.”

“You don’t?”

Jonas shook his head. “I think...I think I started to realize it the other day, when we were watching movies,” he said, taking another step closer. “It’s a good thing I lied to you and said I hadn’t seen the Sound of Music, because I honestly didn’t pay attention to any of it. The whole time I was just focused on how much space there was between us and how badly I didn’t want it to be there. And I know that night we talked a lot about sexuality and stuff and how neither of us is really sure about anything right now. But I do know,” he took another step forward, “that I’ve laughed more with you in the last couple weeks than I have in the last four months. Probably longer even. And I know this might be strange because we only met twelve days ago but...but you’ve become one of my best friends in that time and I don’t even remember what life was like before I knew you” he swallowed and took another step forward. “And I know I live in Norway and you live in America and there might not be a way that anything more than friendship could work between us.”

Mikael’s soft brown eyes were wide with emotion and Jonas took the last step toward him, joining him under the doorway. “But I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I like you. And I’m hoping you might like me too?”

The older boy nodded, and relief flooded Jonas’s body. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiled. Mikael smiled back and Jonas dared to ask, “Can I kiss you know? Because I honestly haven’t stopped thinking about it since I met you?.”

Mikael laughed, teeth gleaming bright against his brown skin. He looked up, and back at Jonas with a smirk. “Mistletoe,” he said.

Jonas laughed and, threading his fingers in Mikael’s silky hair, he locked their lips together gently. Mikael tugged him closer by the waist and his mouth opened easily. They stayed like that, just kissing, until the light faded around them.

\---

They spent the rest of the night mingling with Harold and Sylvia and their friends. To anyone watching, it would have looked no different than any of the other times they spent together. But to Jonas the night felt alive with magic. He stared unabashedly at Mikael, and blushed freely when Mikael caught him staring. He thrilled at the brush of Mikael’s hand under the table and was amazed at the pure, unadulterated joy that Mikael emitted to the world.

Maybe he was high off their kiss. Maybe he was drunk on champagne. Maybe it was the magic of vacation or fairy lights in the garden. Whatever it was, Jonas felt so alive and he really didn’t want the night to end.

When the night wound down and only a few people remained at the house, Mikael found his way to the piano and began playing Harold’s theme. Jonas stood in the doorway, watching his whole body move with the song.

“You know I know you’re there, right?” he asked without turning around.

Jonas laughed, moving toward him, “How could you possibly have known that?”

“Does it matter?” He quirked an eyebrow and scooted over on the bench.

“I guess not,” Jonas said sitting next to him. It felt good, sitting next to Mikael, knowing he was allowed to be comfortable with it. He relaxed more, unlike the other day. He lost himself in the music, and he didn’t even realize the song had morphed into the one Mikael wrote for him until Mikael was nudging him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “Can I take you on a date for New Year’s?”

Jonas slumped a bit, “I’ll be back in Norway by New Year’s.”

Mikael nodded, nonplussed. “I’ve never been to Norway,” he said. “I’ve actually never been to Europe.”

“No?”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “If I follow you to Norway will you go out with me on New Year’s Eve?”

Mikael paused playing the piano as Jonas’s hands came up to grab his face. He kissed Mikael, gently tugging his lip as he pulled away.

“I’d love to,” Jonas said.

Mikael beamed and turned back to the piano while Jonas bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. Mikael nudged him and they both laughed breathlessly, shyly looking up at each other through their lashes, soft smiles playing at their lips as they drank each other in under the lowlight of the room.

* * *

“Fuck,” Isak whispered as they stepped outside. “This shouldn’t be this hard. Why is this so hard?”

“Because you fell in love with a dazzling American stranger over Christmas,” Even teased.

“Ha ha,” Isak said. He rolled his eyes fondly, but squeezed them tight together, rubbing the heels of his hands into them. “Fuck,” he whispered again.

“Hey,” Even said pulling Isak into his arms and wrapping him in a tight hug. “It’s okay. It’s not like we’re not going to talk to each other. Technology exists nowadays, so we can talk as often as we can.”

“I know, I know,” Isak said into his neck. “But you’re the one who’s leaving. You get to go back to sunny, happy, L.A. Meanwhile I’ll be here. I mean,” he laughed bitterly, “This is my best friend’s house for Christ’s sake! How am I supposed to visit now when all I’ll be able to think about is you.”

Even kissed Isak’s eyes, catching the tears before they fell. He pressed kisses to his temples, cheeks, jaw, before settling gently on his lips. He kissed him as if he could take Isak’s sorrow as his own, to save the younger boy from whatever heartbreak Even could inflict upon him.

He pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. His strong hands cupped Isak’s jaw, hoping to convey some surety with his words. “I love you,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

Isak nodded. “You’re right. You’re right,” he said. “You’re strong, I’m strong. We’re both mature adults. We can do this. Whatever _this_ is.”

Even huffed out a laugh, half fond, half devastated. He kissed him one more time and pulled him into a strong hug. “I’ll be seeing you,” he whispered into Isak’s ear before pulling away.

“Take care of yourself,” Isak said quietly, brushing a hand through Even’s hair one more time. He nodded, squeezed Isak’s hand, and settled into the car.

He watched Isak as long as possible while the car drove away, until they turned a corner and he disappeared with the trees.

“Did you have a good holiday, sir?” the driver asked him.

“Yeah I did,” Even said. “The best one ever.”

He pulled away from the window, settling into the seat. He double checked his boarding pass, passport, secretly hoping there would be something forgotten so that he could go back just one more time. But it was all there.

He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the seat. Visions flashed behind his eyelids as the car drove on. Joints passed through fingers that purposefully brushed one another. Wet kisses that trailed across their bodies. Gasping as hair was tugged. Warm lighting. Ice skating. Smiling into kisses. Secrets divulged during quiet moments in the woods. Dancing in the kitchen. Holding each other with the innocence of teenagers in love. Whispered praises, gentle caresses and breathless _I love, I love, I love yous_ as they held each other like they might break

Even’s breath came in shallow and his cheeks burned as a few silent tears escaped his eyes.

He laughed, disbelieving while he roughly brushed the tears away.

“Can you turn around?” He asked the driver.

“Have you forgotten something?” he asked.

“Yes,” Even said, breathless. “Something very important.”

The driver turned the car around as quick as he could, and Even’s hands tapped restless rhythms on his thighs.

“Can’t you go any faster?” He asked impatiently.

“Sorry, sir. The road’s a bit icy, and if I go any faster we’ll end up in a ditch.”

Even sighed. “You know what? It’s fine. Just stop here.”

“You sure?” The driver asked putting the car in park.

Before Even could give him an answer, he was out the door and flying down the street. He ran as fast as he could in the thick snow until he couldn’t possibly run any more. He overestimated his athletic ability and had to pause multiple times to catch his breath. But Even barely noticed anything, his mind still except for the quiet repetition of _Isak Isak Isak._

He turned the last corner and the cabin came into sight. He paused briefly smile playing at his lips before he pushed on, sprinting the last hundred meters to the house.

“Isak!” He shouted, throwing himself through the door.

“Even?” Isak asked quietly, standing up from where he sat at the kitchen table.

“You know, I was just thinking,” Even panted, “Why would I ever leave before New Year’s Eve? I mean, that doesn’t make any sense at all.” Isak’s mouth lifted up at the corner. “You didn’t exactly ask me out. But you did say you loved me. So, I’m thinking I have a date. If you’ll have me?”

Isak rolled his eyes fondly, and rushed to Even, lips slotting together. His fingers knotted in Even’s hair and Even held tight to his waist as they breathlessly licked into each other’s mouths. Even doesn’t know how long they stayed there kissing, but he couldn’t help but think that there was no better kiss in any universe.

* * *

Jonas’s cabin was definitely too small to fit this many people. How did he manage to have so many friends and how did he never manage to have them all over at once before now?

Regardless of the lack of space though, Jonas was overflowing with joy. He was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, looking out into the living room where he saw Mikael engaged in conversation with Magnus and Mahdi. He didn’t have any idea what they were talking about, but Magnus’s head was thrown back in laughter and Mahdi’s bright smile lit up the dark room. Mikael’s smile was small in comparison, but as Jonas caught his eye, it widened. Jonas blushed and made his way over to them, slipping a hand around Mikael’s waist and kissing him on the cheek.

“Are you having fun?” Jonas murmured once the other boys left to get more drinks.

“So much,” Mikael laughed. “Your friends are a riot.”

“They seem to like you too,” Jonas whispered against his lips before kissing him quickly.

“Well look who finally decided to show up,” Eskild’s voice rang out. Isak and Even walked through the door, hand in hand, Isak blushing deeply.

“We got a bit...distracted,” Even said biting his lip to hide his smirk. Isak blushed impossibly deeper and smacked Even on the arm as a chorus of “oohs” went across the room. Even laughed and pulled Isak into a kiss, which the younger boy immediately melted into.

Jonas never thought he’d see the day Isak looked so blissfully happy, and he was so glad for his best friend. After they broke apart, Isak caught Jonas’s eye and dragged Even over to he and Mikael.

“Missed you,” Jonas said pulling Isak into a hug.

“You too,” he said clapping Jonas on the back.

“This is so weird,” Mikael said, shaking his head, his long hair hiding his features.

“What is?” Jonas asked, tucking a piece behind his ear before lacing their fingers together.

“All of this,” Mikael gestured between them. “Me and you. My best friend and your best friend.”

“It’s pretty wild isn’t it?” Even said, looking Isak up and down, hardly paying attention to his friend. Isak blushed again and Even pressed a kiss into his cheek. Jonas had a feeling they would be seeing a lot of that tonight. He was glad Mikael was here because he wasn’t sure he wanted to see what they would look like when the clock struck midnight.

“You two are gross,” Mikael said.

“Absolutely disgusting. Oh hey that reminds me,” Jonas said, pointing with his free hand. “Isak, you owe me new bedsheets.”

“What? Why would I do that?” Isak asked.

“Why do you think?” Jonas sassed.

“Did you not wash those?” Even whispered to Isak and Isak groaned.

“Fuck.”

Jonas laughed, “It’s the least you can do, considering I gave you the best Christmas gift ever.”

“Oh yeah?” Isak quirked an eyebrow. “What was it?”

“Spontaneously flying to L.A. and letting you meet the love of your life.”

“Oh yeah,” Isak melted into Even’s side, looking up at him with so much fondness Jonas thought he might be sick. “That’s a pretty great gift.”

Even licked his lips and practically attacked Isak’s mouth.

Mikael laughed, and Jonas turned to his boyfriend, taking in the glow that surrounded him. “I never thought I’d see Even that happy again,” he whispered as Isak and Even kept kissing. “They’re disgusting, but I’ll take that over the fights he had with Sonja, any day.”

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Mikael teased.

“TEN, NINE, EIGHT.” Their friends started chanting. Isak and Even broke apart from their kiss, but stayed plastered together, noses brushing until it was appropriate to kiss again.

“FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE!”

Jonas kissed Mikael gently, before separating. He looked around the room at all his friends, kissing, laughing, hugging, confetti flying everywhere.

Jonas looked at Mikael, and smiled, softly squeezing his hand. He brought their foreheads together and locked eyes.

“Happy New Year,” Mikael whispered.

And Jonas knew, even before he spoke the words that it was true. “It’ll be the best one yet.” 

**Author's Note:**

> chat with me on [tumblr!](http://whenispeakicrossmyfingers.tumblr.com/)


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